Misspent
by The WGPM
Summary: Sequel to Made for Each Other! Five years passed, and our heroes make an amazing discovery about themselves: they each have been granted their own supernatural power. Things go awry, however, when Phineas has another realization - one that concerns Doofenshmirtz. Now Isabella's team must stop the last pair anyone expected to be a problem - especially her. Phinabella AU... Or is it?
1. The Calendar Date

**Helllllo, everybody! Look what we have here, another installment of the (in)famous _Made for Each Other_ series. Thought we were finished with all the perfection, the secret agents, the Spanish? The cliffhangers, the plot twists, the Shakespeare? No sir or ma'am, because we're doin' a sequel! I've been writing my face off to get it up (I have no face now...) so I'm very excited.**

 **Just kidding. My face is still there. I'm pretty sure.**

 **All that being said, here is the obligatory: Do not read this if you haven't read the first one, because _it will not make any sense whatsoever at all._ If you haven't, it's over 45k words, so clear your schedule. If you have, please be aware that I do not possess any ownership over the cartoon _Phineas and Ferb._ Only this version of their canon. I made it and it's mine. Same goes for the cover image, I made that and it's mine too.**

 **Also. I'm trying out another style of writing with this story, which will make it a lot different than the first one, and pretty much everything else I've written. It's going to be in (GASP!) changing first person, and present tense, so try not to be confused. That is, unless I'm trying to confuse you. And to be clear, the introduction at the beginning is just me speaking, not any characters narrating part of the story. Because I know how much you all love to hear me talk... Er, read me type, or whatever the proper term for it is.**

 **Let's note in addition that the beginning of this story contains a good helping of Phinabella. However, there is a reason they are not bracket-ed in the summary, so I warn you: enjoy it while it lasts.**

 **I think that's about all I have to say right now, so without further ado, the MfEO series presents: _Made for Each Other 2: Misspent_ , everyone! Enjoy!**

* * *

It had been five years. Five long years. One thousand, eight hundred, twenty-six days, each of the one hundred fifty-seven million, seven hundred sixty-six thousand, four hundred seconds spent to its capacity, enjoying every single moment, seizing the day.

And lying.

Okay, so one hundred fifty-seven million, seven hundred sixty-six thousand, four hundred is more of a roundabout number. It may not have been well known that on July the second, five years before that summer, at precisely 2:03 PM something lifechanging happened, but that was the case. It was not until 8:17 PM on June eighteenth in the fifth summer after that it finally took its full effect - two weeks before the real fifth anniversary.

Phineas and Ferb, as you know them, are two stepbrothers with the intent to live life in the greatest way possible. They have a neurotic sister named Candace, a pet platypus named Perry, and a widely-shipped female neighbor across the street - by name of Isabella - who has just the biggest crush on Phineas.

Don't look at me like that! It doesn't matter with whom; Isabella's no-doubt the winner when it comes to being romantically paired with the people in her hometown. Don't try to deny it.

Either way, you take all of this to be true, no? What would have led you to believe otherwise? Surely the Flynn-Fletcher siblings consisted only of the three mentioned, right? And surely, Danville was their home for as long as they could remember? Wasn't it so that Perry's status as a secret agent was strictly confidential between the monotreme and his agency? And that the whole time, the siblings' mother remained oblivious to their daily endeavors?

Well, wasn't it?

What if I were to tell you that that wasn't exactly the whole story? That these characters had entirely different lives before that one summer you had seen them go through? What if I told you that Phineas, Isabella, and Candace weren't even said characters' real names?

...Oh, wait.

I already did that, didn't I?

So much for blowing your mind. Oh well, it looks like I have no choice...

...But to finish the job.

With the help of a couple friends.

* * *

Phineas's POV

I don't dream often. It might seem surprising, all things considered. Phineas Flynn, with the largest imagination in the world, can't dream? Surely my mind doesn't go to sleep when I do; it's always working.

So when it allows me to remember a night's period of subconscious thought, it usually ends up holding some kind of significance.

About two months ago, for example, I dreamt about my grandparents in England... The night before they popped by for a surprise visit.

The time before that, I had subconsciously predicted all of the Christmas presents I was given that year.

I always said that dreams come true, partly because all of mine had, in some way.

So when I woke up this morning with the words of a poem in my head - one that I never heard before - I started to feel a bit uneasy.

This is what I heard...

 _Five years past, the rest, forgotten_  
 _An entire cast: one misbegotten_  
 _One a beast, one a failure, drouth;_  
 _One from the east, one from the south_  
 _Two perfect that'll face even more_  
 _They won the battle, but not the war_  
 _Now open the box, and beware the wrath_  
 _Of the man who walks on the right path._

Do I know what it means? Not a clue! But it seems important, so I'm going to find out.

* * *

El Punto de Vista de Isabella

¡Mi quinceañera es mañana!

En menos que veinticuatro horas, voy a tener quince años - y en México hay siempre una fiesta grande para esto cumpleaños. Es como un "Dieciséis Dulce" aquí en los Estados Unidos, pero es para chicas con quince, no dieciséis. ¿Y el parte mejor? Phineas y Ferb van a planear y hacer mi fiesta. Mis amigos son los mejores.

¿Qué?

Oh... Right, I should probably narrate in English. Look at me, first time with the magical point of view powers, and I'm already messing up! Sorry, I'm just used to default-ing to my native language when in my own home, that's what we speak here. Let me translate.

Isabella's POV

My... Fifteenth birthday is tomorrow!

In less than twenty-four hours, I am going to be fifteen - and in Mexico there is always a big party for that birthday. It's like a "Sweet Sixteen" here in the Untied States, but it's for girls turning fifteen, not sixteen. And the best part? Phineas and Ferb are going to plan and put together my party. My friends are the best.

Anyway, the celebration is called a _quinceañera_ , and it's really quite huge. Er, that's what I hear, I mean, I've never had one before. It's not like you can turn a certain age twice or something. Or turn a certain age and only celebrate it officially five months and eighteen days later. Why would anyone do that? It doesn't make sense. I certainly don't do that. What? I'm not acting suspicious. You're acting suspicious! What's a birthday!?

Woah... That got kind of weird kind of fast. Maybe if I like this narrating thing I'll divulge what exactly I'm talking about someday, but for now I'm going to get back on topic.

"Mamá," I ask in the most beautiful language ever (which, for your information, is español), "Do we want to use the big bowl, or is that still dirty?"

She looks at me with a cross between an amused smirk and a flat, annoyed expression. "I don't know - was I the one who refilled it with popcorn _four times_ during the movie night a few days ago?"

Every year, when my birthday rolls around, my mother and I team up and take care of the cake-making. I know, it's unconventional for someone to create their own birthday cake, but it's something we really enjoy doing - and it always turns out so much more delicious than any store-bought thing some factory slapped together, or however that stuff works. Even the most finicky tradition junkies agree after trying our creation that this is the way to do it; and besides, Mom always does something amazing for me on New Years', too, so tradition isn't entirely disrespected.

Again, maybe I'll explain later. If I like you guys, that is.

"Mom, we finally got the 4D version of the new Stumbleberry Finkbat/Space Adventure crossover on the house set that we've been waiting literally years for, right on the day of our graduation from middle school. So, kind of the slumber party of the century here."

"Yes, yes, I understand," she says, smiling. "Now, get that bowl clean and we can mix this all together."

I beam, thinking about how well this looks like it's going to turn out. Red velvet, is there any other kind of cake worth eating? Well, maybe ice cream, but a little birdie told me there is going to be an ice cream bar at the party anyway, so what would be the point? I do as I was told.

As I run the bowl under the warm water, Mom suddenly stops what she's doing and reaches to hug me from behind. I tense up for a brief moment, but don't stop what I'm doing. It's just like any mom to get sappy near her child's birthday, so like the dismissive teenager some people think I am, I act as though I'm ignoring it. "I love you, you know," she chides, embracing me gently. I scrub at a particularly stubborn piece of somethingorother stuck to the bowl. "You're such a beautiful fifteen-year-old."

"Not yet, Mom," I tease, but it's mostly to convince myself more than anything.

She is silent for a moment, considering this. Tension rises as unspoken words travel between us in the way they can only between mother and daughter. We both know it's not the truth, and the subject is quite touchy for both of us, so the air immediately becomes thicker; yet she doesn't let go. Instead, she rests her head on top of mine and moves her hands around by my neck and shoulders, tracing the faint, itty-bitty scar on the right side of my neck's base. The one she put there.

Her head moves forward and she mouths something into my ear. It would be impossible to hear if not for her proximity to me, though I get the message clearly: "I'm sorry."

My figure falls, and I can tell she understands that I forgive her, it was her job, she didn't mean it, blah, blah, blah, all the same things I say every time.

When the cake is taken out of the bowl and put into the oven, I make sure to steal the container away for licking. It will be needed later.

* * *

Ferb's POV

"I'm thinking something exotic will do," Phineas considers, "To go with her culture, maybe? Most people in this country don't have quinceañeras. Or, would that conflict too much with - well, you know?"

I shake my head. Years have done their magic and put those national issues behind us. "Alright... Do you think we should just ask her? It is her party, and it has to be just how she wants it. I know it's supposed to be a surprise, but, how else are we going to make it perf-"

His speech ends right there, as if we were talking on the telephone and the line suddenly cut off. I put a hand on his shoulder, and he looks back at me with those big Phineas eyes that we all love.

"Yeah. Let's just... Do what we can. I know, a pool party! She said she wanted it in her backyard, right? Er, she hinted at it, but that's close enough. We should make this gigantic water slide, and maybe some sort of lazy river type moat that goes around the house, and with Vivian's permission we could excavate a little and make a deep end, with a diving board that uses micro anti-gravity panels so that people can jump super high, and oh, you _know_ a hot tub is going to happen..."

He continues to rattle off ideas of the sort, then notices my surely less-than-amused expression. "I just... Want to make it special," he explains.

I hand him the blueprints for each and every thing he mentioned, knowing that we already have done a lot of them. He appears to understand this, but knows I mean the best. "She's going to love it," I promise, that being one thing I know for sure. As long as it involved my brother, Isabella could never be happier. That rule stuck hard and fast throughout the whole of our knowing her.

We head into the living room of our house via the backyard's sliding glass door, where a special surprise awaited us: our beloved sister, Candace, sitting nonchalantly on the couch.

"Woah, h-hey, Candace!" Phineas shouts with what would be an understatement to call enthusiasm. He runs to her and throws his arms around her before she could react or get out of the way.

"Phineas," she starts, "Don't do that, you almost gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry..." He says sheepishly, and makes way for me to greet our sister as well. I hug her briefly and move to sit next to her, happy to watch my siblings' conversation. "So, what's going on? How's school going?"

Candace rolls her eyes back. "It's been better. Lots of work, but you know, it's worth it."

I cross my arms. "And Jeremy?" I ask simply.

She smiles, harder than one would think necessary but not the overwhelming type of grin we're used to from her. "He's great," she admits, and we can see how happy she is. "What about you two? What have you been up to lately? I haven't seen you in like, months. Spill - did Mom finally bust you yet?"

"Not sure what you mean by that..." Phineas begins, expressing the confusion we share as a result of the last question. "But we're doing just fine. Another summer just started about a week ago, and there's so much we have to do to seize it. Right, Ferbo?"

Blink. Nod, nod.

"We're not quite sure what to do with today yet, but tomorrow, we're going all out. It's Isabella's fifteenth birthday, so we have to make s-"

"Isabella," Candace says, interrupting him. "How is she?" She raises her eyebrows but lowers her eyelids in a teasing expression that she totally stole from me. "How are you two doing?"

Phineas turns a bit red, but answers the question. "It's going well..." He stammers, "No one really suspects, if that's what you're asking. We're really excited for tomorrow." He joins Candace in giddily smiling about their respective love interests - it's as if he can tell exactly what Candace is thinking - and I deadpan.

"Vanessa's doing well too, if anyone cares to ask," I state. I don't know why Isabella chose a birthday so close to hers.

"Oh, yeah," remembers Phineas. "She's in town now from her birthday yesterday. I don't know why Isabella chose a birthday so close to hers..."

I look to my brother with a flat expression. "Fine, you got me." He removes a helmet of identical size and shape to his head from its previous residence there. "I'll turn the mind-reading off."

"Yeah, and keep it off," requests our sister. "As a matter of fact, destroy that thing. My thoughts are my business, okay?"

Phineas looks at the ground, looking embarrassed and proud at the same time. "Noted," he replies.

"So I'm guessing you're doing Isabella's party tomorrow, huh? Can I come?"

"Of course," Phineas agrees loudly, as I say the same too quietly for one to hear.

"And Vanessa's going to still be here?"

Nod nod nod.

Candace eyes me suspiciously. It was no secret between the three of us that she was my preferred sister, even though I hate having to choose favourites. I love Candace dearly, but previous infatuation trumps lone sisterly bond, I'm afraid.

"Good, so we'll have some time to catch up. What's going on between her and Monty? Anything?" I don't remember Candace being quite this gossipy.

Shake, shake.

Phineas looks at me, surprised. "What does that mean?" He asks, for once not understanding my body language.

"You'll see tomorrow," I say. That's all the answer they're getting.

They both reply the same way: "Okay..."

I turn to see Perry standing in the entranceway, clearly as surprised to see Candace there as we were. As she didn't yet know of his secret (as far as I know, that is), he immediately returns to pet form and waddles up to us on the couch.

"Oh, there you are, Perry," Candace says, smiling. She picks him up and puts him on her lap - I never thought I'd see the day. "It's been a while. Someone's getting a little old." She turns to us. "How old is he now? Like, ten?"

"Ten years," Phineas confirms.

"...And that's old for a platypus, right?"

"Pretty dang so."

"Hear that, Perry?" Candace returns to teasing him. "You're pretty dang old. You going to let them call you that? Of course you are, what can you do to stop them?"

If only she knew how smart he really is.

* * *

Phineas's POV

June 18.

The stage is set. The troops are ready to move out. The problem is, without the element of surprise on our side, we're pretty much sunk. But luckily there is a way to gain said element, a method I've been practicing for years, one that involves misdirection, distraction, and some ice cream.

Every year on Isabella's birthday, Ferb and I take it upon ourselves to make sure her party is the greatest ever; and afterwards she and I - no Ferb, no one else - go out for ice cream sundaes. It started that one summer that Irving documented, the first time we celebrated it in the summer, you know the one to which I'm referring. But this year, it being her quinceañera, we won't have the time to do that later. The party should be running for longer than normal, hopefully into the late evening - there's this star show we have planned, time permitting - and the scale and location of the event will make it excruciating to set up when Isabella's in proximity to her residence. Woah... Gretchen is rubbing off on me.

But the point is, I will need to take Isabella out earlier than normal, to allow the gang to properly set up the surprise. So I stand here looking in the mirror, fixing the tie I reserve for special occasions such as this, play with my collar, unbutton and rebutton my light orange shirt, smooth out the denim on my shorts, tighten the shoelaces on my long, black and white kicks I got in my last wardrobe change, remembering how I didn't forget about aglets that one time, and generally taking way too long to ready myself. We only get two dates a year, after all; those dates being, of course, June eighteenth and December thirty-first. What happens on those dates are strictly the business of Isabella and myself - we do have to keep the secret - but one can appreciate a clever play on words, right? Anyone?

Ferb opens the door behind me, and his presence says all it needs to. "I know, I know, I'm stalling, and you need me to get Isabella out of her house as soon as possible." I look him fully in the eyes, earning a blink in the face. "Yeah, well, at least she's not our sister," I jab teasingly.

The unimpressed frown and general mien of annoyance I was expecting from Ferb did not come; instead, he looked as if he was holding back an especially amused grin. That is, especially amused for other people, so extremely ecstatic for him. I don't press it, however; whatever's going on, I'm happy for him.

I grab my house key, attached to a small key ring which I proceed to clip onto my right-front belt loop, and explain, "I was just leaving now, actually."

The _ding!_ signalling Ferb's thumbs-up was shorter and louder than normal. Clearly he is in a hurry; I leave the house and sprint across the street (after looking both ways, of course).

I knock on Isabella's front door without giving myself time to think about what I'm doing. No sooner do I put my hand down than she is there, looking curiously at me.

"Hello!" I start, "Happy birthday! ¡Feliz cumpleaños! How's it going, fifteen-year-old? How does it feel?"

She looks at me with a knowing yet unimpressed glance. "It actually doesn't feel all that different than yesterday," she explains, "It's like I've already been fifteen since, oh, I don't know, New Year's?

"But anyway, whatcha doin'?"

Oh, the whatcha doin'. Our little code. She came up with the idea after watching some movie, to let this one phrase be a code meaning 'I love you'. That became her catchphrase.

"Wondering if you were quite ready for our little... Excursion," I answer, feeling my lips curl up into one of those silly grins magnified by the odd shape of my head.

"Oh, uh, we're going now?" Observes Isabella.

"I'm going now," I start to explain. "But as I left the house I realized, 'What the heck? Might as well see if Isabella would like to come'." I then hold out my arm, bent as if expecting her to drape a cloth over it and treat herself to the delicate wine and platter of pastries in my other hand. Which, if I'm taking this clarity for granted, only exist in the world of obscure description.

She puts down a large, mostly-empty bowl, lined with cake batter, which I had not noticed she was holding. "Isa," I hear her mother call from inside, "Easy on the batter! You will get salmonella."

I don't believe this for a second; Isabella has the greatest immune system in the world, never being truly sick a day in her life. She had to fake it for Irving's sake once, but that does not count. "I actually doubt that," I return, understanding that she must be joking.

Vivian steps into view. "Oh, Phineas, you are here," she chides, "And in such a cute little tie as well. I am guessing you are here to take tu novia?"

We both flush lightly at this, which is all the answer she needs. "Okay, have fun then," calls Isabella's mother, returning to the living room.

"I don't know, Phineas, I don't think I'm quite ready," the girl across from me admits, "Unless you want me to go out in my signature outfit."

"Don't be silly. I like it!" I explain, not really caring about the volume of my voice. It isn't all that special, really - just a long, pink sleeveless dress with a thin belt down the middle and a wavy bottom, shoes just like what she's always worn but in purple this time, and a pair of long white socks. Her hair is braided, and a bow adorns the point where the weave began. She'd taken on the new look a few years ago when she 'turned' thirteen, the same birthday pretty much everyone had last changed their outfits. It's kind of a right of passage-slash-coming of age thing in Danville, and we aren't due for another one until we turn eighteen. I know I have time to think about it before then, but I've really been considering going with a layered shirt. Ferb pulls off his vest so well that-

Right, I should probably get on topic.

"Besides, I'm going in mine," I point out. I had to get an outfit together kind of hastily, and this was pretty much my entire closet, so give me a break!

"Yeah, at least you have that tie," she says, quite clearly endeared by it.

"Turn around," I instruct.

Isabella does as she is told, albeit hesitantly. Without saying a word, I carefully undo her soft pink bow, which seems to take her by surprise, and just as gently replace it with a light orange one - same color as my tie - with short, curly ribbons hanging from its center. "There," I conclude when I'm sure it is properly set in place, and as she spins around again to face me, I hold up a hand mirror. "Happy birthday," I say again, and she beams.

"Thank you so much," she gushes, "I love it. _Now_ , we're ready."

And just like that, she slips her arm in my own, and we're off. Across the street, I can see Ferb's face in our bedroom window upstairs, flashing me another thumbs-up and drawing the curtains closed.

* * *

Isabella and I stroll up to the ice cream parlor, and I make a show of oh-so-gentlemanily opening the door for her. She giggles the slightest bit, and we enter, forgetting once again just how cold it is inside.

"Talk about AC," she mutters, and I comply.

"Individual air conditioning units are installed in most cases in the windows of homes, shops, offices, and other buildings. They serve the purpose of providing cool air to the surrounding area, used primarily in the summertime and warmer months, and fine, fine, I'm stopping." I stare at her amused but slightly sarcastic grin, aware that that was not what she meant, and have to notice how downright cute it is. Seriously, I don't care who you are, if you saw it you'd have to agree.

It should make sense. She is perfect, always has been. Plain and simple as that.

We walk on over to the counter, order and pay for our sundaes (this parlor is special; it makes the ice cream right in front of you by condensing some kind of gas - I forget which one exactly - into ice. One can guess who showed them that little trick), and take them to our seats by the window. I poke into mine with the long, plastic spoon and stick it out towards her in offering. "Want to try it?" I ask, though she clearly knows what is happening.

"Oh, no thank you," she denies graciously. "I can't possibly."

"Oh - right. Peanut butter. You're allergic." I wink at her, knowing that can't possibly be true. "My bad."

"Heh," she sighs, looking down into her own, somewhat - is it enviously? - "Yeah."

Her eyes. So big. I can't even.

"So, Month Number Six, Day Number Eighteen," I sum, "Now, remind me again, why... Is it so close to Vanessa's?" The last part was uttered softly.

"That was my last graduation from school before I moved," she explains. "The day before the first day of... That summer. How do you keep track of all these days so well?"

"Oh, please," I dismiss, with a wave of my hand. "I've always been great at that. It's like you're dating a calendar."

Instantly, two identical drum sounds can be heard emanating from our pockets. "Rimshot app," we both declare, before falling into soft laughter. "Dating a calendar," she repeats, enjoying the pun. "But it's not like this is a date, right?"

Secrets. Always have to keep them. Of course it is, but if anyone knew that, we would both be in for it. "Of course it is," I explain anyway, "This is June eighteenth - a date on a calendar."

In normal circumstances, this would be dismissed as another example of a miscommunication crossed with a play on words. But it doesn't take Isabella long to realize that the tile floor of the parlor was made up of crisp white squares, outlined by thin strips of black. It looked just like - you guessed it - a normal calendar.

"Oh, yes," she returns, lowering her eyelids in surrender, grinning slightly, "A date on a calendar indeed."

At that moment, I feel something strange begin to grip at my heart. I grab onto the table for support, arms beginning to shake ever so slightly. Isabella doesn't seem to notice, and it ends almost as quickly as it began anyway, so I calm down and pick up my spoon again. Mm... Ice cream.

Suddenly, I realize I can't stand to be in the same room as Isabella right now.

* * *

 **So... There it is. Misspent. And the first chapter ends with a pseudo-cliffhanger... I do love this series. ^^**

 **As a side note, I have to point out: the clothes Phineas and Isabella wear in this are the outfits we see briefly in AYA, during What Might Have Been, between when they show the outfits from the normal series summer and the ones they wear in that episode. That is what I consider their teenage years, as AYA happens ten years after they are about 10-11, making them 20-21 in AYA, letting the space in-between be their teen years, and those be their new signatures. Everyone else has new outfits too, but unless I find it relevant I may or may not actually detail them in the story.**

 **I'm hoping to go back to some kind of updating schedule for this, (fingers crossed) if not the Wednesday-Saturday one I used to be good at, then perhaps just a Wednesday one. This is pretty much my summer project, though it will probably run into the school year, too. We'll just have to see.**

 **Carpe Diem!**


	2. The Second Fifteenth

**I really like this chapter, it was fun to write and turned out really long. A lot of important stuff happens, so hold onto your fedoras!**

 **Also, it occurs to me that I probably should be responding to all reviews I couldn't PM to (for whatever reason), not just guests. Therefore, here we go with the new and improved section of these A/N's, known as the**

 **Review Responses!**

 **Dreadwing216: Going to? You mean it doesn't already? Well hopefully this chapter will live up to that expectation.**

 **Jet Engine: So am I, though I was expecting it. :3**

 **Guest: That was a great review, I appreciate your thoughts. Yes, I know, the Spanish probably wasn't as good as that used by someone who speaks it fluently at home. I'm only about two years (but technically three) into Spanish class, so I'm still learning. The reason I had her repeat herself is simple: Not everyone in the audience might know what she was saying in this foreign language. There's some Spanish in this chapter too, though it's not that much better. And I did not use Google translate - it's a mentiroso! Anyway, the thing with their birthdays is that the ones in this universe are fake. Perfeneas and Isealia were born on New Year's day, January first, of the same year. June 18 and August 17 (the birthdays I chose for Isabella and Phineas, respectively) are the dates they decided they wanted to have their fake birthdays which help keep their identities secret. They are therefore the dates of the episodes, "Happy Birthday, Isabella!" and "Phineas' Birthday Clip-O-Rama." That's why this chapter is called The Second Fifteenth, because it's the second time Isabella experiences a fifteenth birthday. Chronology is pretty important in this universe, so if anyone's confused let me clarify that this takes place four years after the show and five years after the first story. Isabella and Phineas are fifteen (though the former pretends that she is only turning so today and the latter has to wait to catch up to his real age - he pretends he's fourteen for now), as are Ferb and the rest of the gang (those who already had birthdays this year that is), Candace is eighteen going-on-nineteen, and Vanessa just turned twenty a couple days ago. And I know what they said about ages, this is all just going by my particular headcanon - that the show is the summer they turn eleven and AYA takes place ten years later. I don't know why Dan and Swampy chose to do it that way, but that's how it ended up happening.**

* * *

Ferb's POV

Lights, cheque.

Presents, cheque.

Music, cheque.

Phineas, cheque.

Isabella... No cheque.

I crouch behind one of Mrs. García-Shapiro's flower bushes in her backyard, peering out into the sliding glass door to the kitchen inside to find my brother, completely guest of honour-less. Other partygoers begin to pop out of their hiding spaces as well, to see why my brother failed to return with the person we are all here to celebrate. I wouldn't mind knowing, either.

Phineas sees me quickly, and dashes up to explain. "Ferb," he starts, almost in a whisper. "I-I don't know what's come over me, but I just gotta stay away from Isabella."

What is this? I feel an eyebrow quirk up, my hands coming to rest on the crook of each other's bent elbows.

"I told you, I don't know." He looks frantically back at the house a few times. "And I don't know if I'm going to be able to do this."

That can't be; the party can't function without him. Where is she? I immediately steel my face and drop my arms.

"You're not going to like this..." Phineas starts, looking more and more ashamed with each word. "Last I saw her, sh-she was still at the parlour, but - I-"

He left her? I hold up my hand, interrupting him. He blushes red, knowing he was wrong.

"Yeah, I left her. But I know there has to be a reason for this - there just has to. We-We weren't exactly - you know... _Made for each other_."

Nonsense. I know someone who wrote a forty-five thousand-word novel about how they were.

"You're right, but... I-I think I'll be okay. I just need some water."

Water it is. I lead him carefully inside, but not before turning slowly back to the others in their hiding places, awaiting the moment we all burst out and shout 'surprise'. They would have to wait a bit longer.

Phineas gets himself the water, examining its wet, clear surface for an answer to what had happened. Realising he is not getting one, he shrugs and tips it into his mouth.

Somehow. I still don't know how he handles that triangle.

As he rubs his mouth with his forearm after finishing the glass ("Too much iron," he complains), we can hear the front door opening sadly. Which is a strange way for a door to sound when it opens. I grab the glass from the counter and stuff it in Isabella's dishwasher, ushering him to the front room, while I sprint noiselessly back into the kitchen and motion out the back door for the people to get into position.

Then, I take my stash of multicoloured flashlights from where I hid them in the hallway, flip off the house lights, get a bucket of confetti ready, and stalk around to overhear my brother's conversation with Isabella, throwing on my fedora for good measure.

Goodness, I'm glad it still fits.

Luckily, it appears Phineas is having some ease making it sound like his desertion of her was planned, to bring her here and get her hopes down; because I can practically hear the way he is smiling just by his voice. He is making it seem as though he is excited... Okay, at least it is an acceptable attempt at redemption for his actions. But he is taking far too long; come on, brother, just as we practiced. _A decade and a half in the making..._

...And, there it is, the song we had prepared; the original 'happy birthday' song clearly wouldn't do, for purposes other than copyright issues.

I rub my throat. I haven't rapped in so long, even in English.

 _A decade and a half in the making  
_ _Isn't nearly enough time spent with you.  
The summer, dear, is ours for the taking  
For only as long as the skies are blue..._

To add emphasis to the lyrics, I shine the blue-hued light onto the floor where Isabella stands, utterly perplexed. Good. Phineas gets the orange one.

 _So please take my hand, I've got something to show you  
Come follow my lead, the mere yards to the door.  
What lies beyond, it will hopefully throw you  
Off your guard, so come, and I'll give you a tour!_

For the record, I wanted it to be meters. However, 'mere yards' apparently sounds so much better, so in this one - _one!_ \- case, the Americanism won.

As Phineas leads Isabella to various rooms in her own house, I stick to the shadows, tossing bouts of confetti and flower petals in appropriate places. No, it was not my idea.

 _Here is your bedroom, where we danced 'till we're sick  
_ _And this is the ladder to the roof - no, attic!  
In the living room we battled in your favourite new game  
And the dining room was where your cupcakes got their fame..._

Ah, the attic. Some kind of inside joke between the two. I power on the golden-coloured light as Phineas steps up to the kitchen, enveloping the room in a dream-like haze.

 _But something tells me that the greatest memory  
Is being saved for the backyard, between you and me...  
So don't look yet, now don't you open your eyes  
For that would kind of ruin when we all yell-_

This is it. I pull the door open, and Phineas removes his hand from Isabella's face.

The entire neighbourhood and I finish Phineas's line with him and shout, _"-Surprise!"_

Isabella is clearly ecstatic, hardly containing her excitement when she saw the party. "Ph-Phineas, I-" she starts, but the boy presses a finger to her lips, indicating that there was more to come. This time, everyone involved in the surprise joins in the song for a chorus.

 _Happy fifteenth birthday, Miss García-Shapiro  
Hope your day goes as well as all summers past!  
Whatever happens, know that you'll be a hero  
Get ready because we're sure this year's gonna last!_

I heard someone say 'laugh' at the end there. Wise guy. Probably Buford. I am tossed a microphone, and realise it's my cue; Spanish class, don't fail me now.

 _Feliz cumpleaños, Señorita -Shapiro  
_ _Tu día va a ser tan bien como todos veranos.  
_ _Si sientes mal, debes saber te amamos  
Por que hoy decimos, "¡Feliz cumpleaños!"_

I tried my best. Syllables did not do me justice in the translation. It's a rap, what are you going to do? As I toss the mic back to whomever threw it to me, a loud cheer arises; Isabella's mouth threatens to run off her face, her smile is so big.

The rest of the party quiets down a bit, providing Phineas backup for when he repeats the chorus:

 _Happy fifteenth birthday, Miss García-Shapiro  
May your life be as sweet as each summer past!  
Through all ups and downs, you've shown you're my hero  
And this year, I know that that title will last!_

That final stanza, courtesy of myself. But it was Phineas's message to Isabella, and he pulled off the performance much better than I would have been able to. It made the girl so much happier than I think I have ever previously seen her, though it's much too soon to call this mission accomplished. Besides, my brother's folly from before surely will not go completely unnoticed; one does not simply run away from an outing and expect to make it okay just by singing a little tune in reconciliation. It just does not work that way.

Speaking of which, it also appears that Phineas has completely overcome his outburst from before. That is, it appears that way, but only I know Phineas's mannerisms well enough to possess the capability of recognising the tiny flashes of unease in my brother's eyes.

Not his smile. That is as genuine and gleeful as ever.

The unease seems to flee his mien as Isabella runs up and hugs him tightly, but pulls away shortly afterward; there are far too many onlookers. "Everyone, thank you so much!" She exclaims, simply bursting in both excitement and gratitude. "Now, let's get this party started!"

Everyone seems to agree, so we do as she commanded. I hop off to DJ for a moment while Isabella and Phineas return inside to change into their bathing suits.

Well, I suppose the latter had to walk across the street for that.

A few songs in, and it seems everyone invited has arrived. I do have to scan the crowd a couple times for a certain individual, however, that I have not seen in a couple days despite her only visiting for a short while.

Let me explain. The last time I saw Vanessa was at her own birthday celebration, a mere two days before this one. This did not surprise me, as I was expecting to be invited to my own sister's birthday; however, I was also expecting a certain other person to be there. The first time I met Montgomery Monogram was at the peaceful Danville Park, when I was working for his father's spy agency. A friend and I had been somewhat insubordinate to the organisation - for the sake of my family, mind you - and he was the one sent to attempt to arrest us. Thankfully, our pet platypus is quite an awesome fellow, so we made it out almost unscathed, but that Monogram had left a bad taste in our mouths. It didn't help when in the very next summer he began dating Vanessa.

It has been approximately four years since then, and it seemed for a long while that they were going relatively strong for the majority of that time. There has been no indication from either of them otherwise - not until Vanessa's twentieth birthday. The party was held at the moat-surrounded castle next to her father's apartment building which had been installed one Halloween, where Phineas and I were tasked with throwing a Halloween-themed bash - which went over quite well, for your information - and was also the moment I first learned of Monty and Vanessa's relationship. Naturally, being the mature young man I was even back then, I couldn't let that upset me too much. I even sang the tango to which they danced that night, with some help from Baljeet. But just last Thursday at her birthday, the lack of Monty at the occasion was astounding and did not nearly go unnoticed by me. An audience with Vanessa after the celebration was over revealed that a few months ago, the two had finally broken up.

Then, something amazing happened - I felt awful for her. She clearly wasn't taking it so well, even though she knew in her heart that the conflict between the two's fathers would never allow it to work out. And so there I was, very sorry that the person with whom I once was infatuated had just faced an end to a long, apparently happy relationship. What a feeling! It felt wonderful to feel so bad; there wasn't a hint of relief poking at the sides of my brain at all, not a single twinge of jealousy at the mention of the agent's name. Do you understand what that means?

That was the moment I first realised that I, Frank Elvis Richard Brian Fletcher, am officially and totally over Vanessa Doofenshmirtz.

* * *

Isabella's POV

I said it before, and I'll say it again: My friends are the best.

I'll admit, I did think Phineas's disappearance from our trip out to the ice cream parlor was... Strange. Okay, I was totally crushed - not to mention surprised. Phineas Flynn, of all people? We were just talking about dates and calendars. Did the puns scare him off? I knew getting that Clever Wordplay Patch was risky. But when the act led me here, to this wonderful party, how couldn't I forgive him? He probably realized he was needed for preparations, or something.

That doesn't mean I'm not still going to be wary. As Ferb probably noted up there, no one gets away from something like that _that_ easy. I plan to bring it up later; now isn't the time for it. Now is the time to party!

And no one says pool party better than Phineas and Ferb. That becomes clear the moment my fingertips break the surface of the water after this swan dive I had spent some time practicing. I clamber up to the surface, opening my mouth to let in air and my ears to let in the roar of applause the move had earned me. I smile, content, and shuffle through the water to one side of my family's in-ground pool.

I heft myself up with my arms so that I'm sitting on the side of the pool with my legs knee-down still in the water, and watch the diving board where Baljeet stands, clearly shaken, at the edge. The line seems to be held up by this, but not for long; soon enough Buford scales the ladder and shoves him in. The look on my friend's face is priceless as he falls helplessly into the water, landing next to a startled and now very wet Ginger - when had she cut her hair? It's now about shoulder length - giving the two hardly enough time to get out of the way before Buford's burly canonball nearly drowns them and everyone in about a ten-foot radius.

The celebration goes on like this for a while, and everyone seems happy the whole time. There were contests held for the hula hoop, the limbo, swimming races, largest canonball, most bellyflops (Ferb won with his combo of a bellyflop and a cannonball, a "cannonflop"), best dancer, and others, of which I won my share ("Don't know why anyone's surprised," Phineas commented). Naturally, it being my party, I was the center of attention, but some others had their moments as well. Candace and Vanessa reunited, spending a good hour or so catching up; a good amount of time was also spent chatting about this guy named Norman. At one point Ferb turned on the Wild Groove Platy-Move, a line dance we'd thought up a few years ago (though I forget who we had given the naming rights to). The cake turned out delicious, thank you very much, and the ice cream bar I was promised was a big hit, especially with Buford. Presents were given and I was grateful, especially to my mother who gave me a be-au-tiful necklace, fitted with my birthstone, a garnet... Not a pearl. Phineas spent probably more time in the hot tub than he should have, but what else is new? Gretchen had a long, hard talk with Baljeet about the novel series they both had committed to reading, confusing everyone nearby; the two had become probably this town's greatest rivals, constantly competing for who would be crowned the nerdiest ("Most intelligent," they would both claim, Buford following shortly with, "Exactly - nerdiest."). It looked like Gretchen won, but she had the advantage of going out with - blah - Irving Du Bois. I'm surprised he didn't get in on the rivalry, he would have swept the floor with them.

Speaking of Baljeet, Phineas just said he had to take care of something, then ran off to find him. With nothing better to do, I stalk after him, watching the boy literally push Baljeet closer to Ginger.

The Fireside Girl is sitting, looking quite lonely by herself on the edge of the pool. A glass of punch in her hand and one leg in the water, the other arm wrapped around the other leg and one cheek in the other hand, she gazed solemnly into the pool. Not keen on seeing people upset, especially at a social gathering such as this one, I slip into the water and swim over to her, trying to look nonchalant.

"So, how are you enjoying the party?" I ask Ginger conversationally. She looks up to meet my eyes, even though my head is below hers.

"It's... Pretty good," she responds. "Did you see Ferb win that bellyflop contest? He's going to be red for _weeks_."

We turn to look at our friend, whose chest is noticeably redder than I'm sure it was when we started. "No kidding," I agree. We fall back into silence, so I decide I have to break it. "So why are you looking so down?"

She places her punch down on the stone surrounding the pool. "Give you one guess," she explains. "It starts with a 'B' and ends with an '-aljeet'."

I make a show of thinking hard about it, bringing my hand to my chin and rolling my eyes in thought. "Now, could it be..." I wonder, "Baljeet?"

Ginger sighs heavily. "Yeah, I just really messed up," is the beginning of her explanation. "Let me put it this way. Has Phineas ever noticed your hints?"

Every single one. Oh, unless you're talking about the ones I give him about _not_ being perfect for him, thank you Clever Wordplay Patch. "Not one," I explain, shaking my head.

"Exactly, that's how it was for me and Baljeet too, un-until just a few minutes ago," Ginger tells me. "I said something... Way too obvious. Just, suffice it to say 'L' is now my new least favorite letter."

I nod. She always had something against lemurs.

"And he kind of... Er..." Ginger struggles to find the words. "Got the hint."

I raise my eyebrows (which are arguably nonexistent, but unless you like your nose the way it is, don't ask). "...And..?" I inquire cautiously, understanding that while it should be good news, she seems clearly shaken by it.

"He completely freaked out!" She says, only just quiet enough not to be heard above surrounding conversations. "He was all, 'Ginger, what are you saying?' And 'Ginger, you are not making any sense,' and 'Ginger, is there something you want me to know?'" She imitated his accent half-decently, half-mockingly. The voice was funny, but the words must have been horrifying. "And, I just didn't know what to do! And-And I just panicked, so embarrassed, and I-" she stops. "I kinda sorta said no a little bit."

I consider this for a moment. A seemingly golden opportunity to tell Baljeet what she's been meaning to for years, and she... denied it? The hint must have been downright stupid-sounding. The poor girl. "So... What happened?" I ask.

Her face goes pale, and she tenses up before saying, "He just gave me a sort of embarrassed look, just smiled into his punch, and said, 'That is a relief,' and then walked away. A relief! Now not only am I in the eternal friend zone forever, but I also know that he never considered anything more than that. He was _glad_ I said no. Now what am I going to do?"

"I think you should tell him," says Phineas.

Says Phineas! "Hey," I greet, turning to him next to me and wondering, "Whatcha doin'?"

"I wanted to talk to Ginger," he responds with a silly grin. "Baljeet just told me about what happened. And I think he deserves to know the truth of it."

"Guys, I don't know. What is he going to think? I mean, he was totally appalled by the notion beforehand, can you imagine what it'd be like now? I am in for _a mountain_ of teasing."

"Shush, he'll understand," I explain. "This is Baljeet we're talking about. Isn't he pretty much the most rational person on the planet?"

Ginger giggles at this; apparently she finds it enamoring. "And come on, Ginge," Phineas pushes, "If you don't tell him now, you probably won't ever be able to. You don't want that, do you?"

"Well, I-" She squeezes her eyes shut and reflects, "It's just, telling the person you admire that you have a crush on them? I've never done that before, I haven't done any preparation - I can't just up and randomly decide to say something like that - and once he knows, there's no going back. It's like that time with you and the - uh, the crumb cake, Isabella. Could you imagine? I'm not ready for that yet."

"Sure you are," Phineas insists, not knowing what the incident with the crumb cake was all about. I had been tired of his obliviousness to my imperfection one day, and thanks to some of my Nana's advice I had composed a letter spelling it out for him; crumb cake was the metaphor I used. How when you stick a fork into it, it all crumbles away, but as long as the spongey cake is there to catch it all, you can still enjoy its sweetness. Yes, it's poetic, but not enough for eleven-year-old me, so when the letter was immediately returned to the mailwoman (favorite oxymoron ever!) before Phineas could see what I wrote, I did not attempt to give it back to him. The Fireside Girls had all helped try to keep the letter from reaching him, thinking that it contained my feelings for him. Which it did, but that wasn't why I couldn't let him see it. "All it takes is a little Carpe Diem-ing. Trust me, you've got nothing to lose."

"Yes I do!" Ginger was almost whining by now. "My friendship with him, I have that to lose. I couldn't stand if that happened."

Phineas swims to the edge of the pool and climbs out of the water. Squatting, he offers her a hand up. "Hey," he starts, "He makes you happy, right?"

Ginger nervously pulls her hand away from Phineas's, but does not drop his gaze. "Y-Yeah."

"And I like seeing people happy. So why would I do something that would prevent two of my friends from being happy? A little emotional bravery never killed anybody."

"I-I guess you're right," Ginger agrees, reaching for Phineas's hand, "I never did get that patch."

"Well, it looks like now's your chance," encourages Phineas, pulling her to her feet. The one leg of hers that was in the water glimmered in the quickly receding evening light. "Remember, two words: Carpe Diem."

Ginger breathes heavily. "Y-Yeah..." She stammers, "I-I can do that."

"That's the spirit!" Phineas exclaims, scanning the yard for the Indian in question. "There-" he points - "Go get 'im."

Ginger steps carefully in the direction Phineas points, making nervous noises all the way. Phineas turns back to me, sitting at the edge of the water. I realize I'm humming a certain couple of lines from a song we had all preformed a few years ago. "No more waiting for the right time; you're in it!" Phineas sings along, "Just grab those opportunities when you see 'em..."

We both conclude the tune, "'Cause every day's a brand new, day, baby, Carpe Diem!"

"You always have been good at pep talks," I observe, and Phineas turns just the slightest bit pink, probably remembering all the times he had helped people out of various degrees of ruts - a lot of those times probably concerning Candace. He then suddenly stops smiling, squeezing his eyes shut, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Hey, Phineas?" I ask, concerned, "Is something the matter?"

"N-Nothing," he replies, "I-I'm good, just, let's-let's go see how Ginger's doing, okay?"

"Okay," I agree, following his path in a confused manner. The last time I saw Phineas like this was just earlier today, before-

Well, before he ran away from me in the ice cream parlor.

He sprints over to a chair on the far side of the yard, using a shrub as a means of not allowing Ginger or Baljeet to see him. I pull up another plastic chair beside him, wondering if this counted as an invasion of our friends' space. Nah, probably not.

We can't even hear what they are saying; we just have to guess that progress is being made. Phineas shifts his seat uncomfortably away from my own, as I watch through the foliage to see if I can tell what's going on.

Ginger just will not stop playing with her hands, seeing as she is in a bathing suit and doesn't have a dress with which to fiddle. I scan what I can see of Baljeet's face to see if any new information had registered in it, and it really is hard to tell - but I think she got something through to him. Good for her.

See, and now Ginger thinks she's beaten me to this emotional bravery thing. Yeah, not a chance. Either way, I'm happy for her.

Yep, there it is. There it is! It's happening! I watch excitedly as Baljeet slowly moves towards Ginger, closing his eyes and opening his arms. Ginger does the same and the two hug it out for a while, clearly happy with whatever had transpired. The rays of the setting sun bounce off of them, seeming to prolong their embrace; then, carefully, they break away, her looping her arm in the crook of his, and they make their way to the side of the yard.

"Phineas!" I exclaim, "Phineas, did you see that?" I turn to the chair next to me, but am stunned to find it completely empty. Well, except for a random leaf, which I brush off.

I don't know what else to do, other than repeat, "Phineas?"

* * *

Phineas's POV

Oh, no. Not again.

I run my fingers through my messy, slightly wet hair, trying - trying, so hard - not to feel that sensation again. But I can't fight it, it's still there, and the thing is - I don't even know what it is.

"Ferb," I pant, "Hey, you know what happened earlier, with Isabella?"

He turns to me and blinks.

"Yeah, it's happening again. I don't know what it is, I just can't be around her. She can't see me like this!" I realize it probably sounds like I'm whining. I probably am.

He lowers his eyelids, clearly unimpressed.

"I know... This isn't the time for it. But I really think there's something wrong, wrong with me. And I think I know who put it there." And to be clear, I'm not talking about Isabella.

He doesn't seem to understand that, however, choosing instead to take me by surprise and use that voice of his. Not only is it surprising he's using up one precious line with me right now, but what he says also brings me a brief sense of déjà vu: "She makes you happy, right?"

I nod dumbly, failing to argue with logic like that. He could continue, but he doesn't have to. I know his point - that Isabella and myself are strong enough to overcome whatever this is, and that as long as I am with her I shouldn't have to worry about anything or anyone.

"Yeah, you're right..." I concede, and Ferb turns back to his DJ booth, scrolling a finger along the touch screen to find a certain song. He glances at me sideways, nods his head in Isabella's general direction, and fires up the song. It's slow-moving and happy, perfect - no, ideal - ugh, consummate - are you kidding me? _Pretty good_ \- for dancing lightly with someone you care about. I turn my head and spot Baljeet and Ginger doing just that not far from here, and I point it out to my brother; "Hey, guess who got who together just now?"

But he doesn't seem as impressed or excited as I had intended to make him. He just continues staring at me, pleading with his eyes: _Dance with her._

I sigh, and feel my lips curling somewhat downward; then I stop, realizing how many more muscles this requires than to curl them upwards - which I do next. "Okay, I'll try it," I say, walking towards the area most people are using to dance. Out of the corner of my eye I see Ferb making his way over to Ginger and Baljeet, surely to give them his congratulations.

I spy Isabella sitting on the plastic white deck chair in front of the bush where she was when I left, resting her cheek in her hand, it propped up by her elbow bent on the arm of the chair. I make a show of displaying my own hand out for her to take.

She looks up, once again surprised to see my face. "May I have this dance?" I ask, unsure of how any of this is going to work out.

Isabella smiles sympathetically, extending her arm out to take my hand. "Yes, you may," she allows, and I pull her up in much the same way I did to Ginger earlier.

We dance for a little while, and it's all but pleasant. Isabella's swimsuit keeps rubbing itself against my very red chest (too many bellyflops is a bad idea), and to be quite honest, the slow moving back and forth is kind of... Boring. Even if it is Isabella. Eventually I try to pick up the tempo a bit, still going smoothly, spinning her around, moving a bit more. But it doesn't get quite that fun until Ferb - that sneaky kid, who let him DJ? Oh, right, I suggested it - put on the next track: Gitchee Gitchee Goo, from back when Phineas and the Ferb-Tones was still only a one-hit wonder. Good times, those were, though it took some convincing on my part for people to believe the lyrics really were meaningless.

"Phineas, this is our song!" Isabella exclaims, pointing in Ferb's general direction excitedly. We dance to this for a while too, and I can't help but to feel that maybe we've done this before. Some alternate universe, maybe.

But until we build a portal to this alternate universe, I have to settle for doing it right now, right here, tonight. At least it's quicker than the last one, and I actually catch myself having a good time. With Isabella. Though I have to stay wary of myself - which I discover is even more important than I apparently thought before.

By the last line, I had been dancing with Isabella for far too long than my body was evidently comfortable with. In one move, not caring about who was watching, I give Isabella one of those exaggerated dips, her leaning precariously over the pool. And to my own horror, I feel my fingers letting go of her, sending her yelping backwards, falling into the water.

But that's not the most shocking development of those thirty seconds. As the water displaced by her body flew up to meet my hands, said appendages flew up to protect me, and from them erupted two small bright whisps of fire.

Terrified, I bring my hands up to my face, eyeing them cautiously. Those who saw the act exploded into applause, clearly thinking it was all some special effect trick Ferb and I are famous for. That it was all planned.

Frantically, I search for my brother in the crowd. He meets my eyes, asking silently with them: _What was that?_

"I-" I start, "Uh, I think I need some water."

I start running and don't stop until I'm in my own kitchen, downing a disgusting cup of iron-rich hydrogen and oxygen molecules and thinking, _Ferb, that was a darn good question._

* * *

 **Well, uh, yeah, that happened. What will all this mean for Phineas? Or Ferb, or Isabella? Who is this Norman fellow? Where's Perry? What was that line dance they all made? To whom was Phineas referring when he thought he knew why what was happening was? What does Ginger have against lemurs? All these questions are important - okay, maybe not the last one - and only time (and I) will tell!**

 **...I wish my birthday could have been a pool party. Er, on second thought, no, that would have been very cold. Aquarians of the world, unite!**

 **Ferb rapping in Spanish truly is the pinnacle of my existence. The syllables hated me. Furthermore, his name. That's something I've been working on for several months, and I like the acronym idea. Shouldn't be surprising, really.**


	3. The Other Three

**Chapter three up. And it's called The Other Three. And here we have not one new POV, and not two, but three. Coincidence?**

 **...One hundred percent yes!**

 **Review responses:**

 **Dreadwing216: Haha, that's more like it. Well, wait no longer: here it is!**

 **MagicQuill42: Yep, that's the question, isn't it? Thanks, that's exactly what I was aiming for after the first story. Be ready for even more twists in upcoming chapters!**

 **Wld Wst Guest: Well, that alternate identity is a pretty important aspect of this universe. Just something to keep in mind, that the events of the show are shared between both canons, but what actually happens in the episodes can be interpreted differently depending on which you're talking about. Ten years is also a pretty round number, but what are you going to do - I will not accept that the kids are eight in the show, and this is my canon, so I'm rolling with it. Coincidentally, I do relate a lot to most of the characters, especially Candace in particular. Oh, is _that_ why Ferbella is so popular? That actually makes sense. O.O As for Ferb talking too much, ikr? That's actually always been a bit of a problem for me. If you remember in the first story I tried to make it a point that Ferb of this universe is oh-so-slightly more talkative, but only before the show. And it gives me pleasure to know Phineas is IC here; I don't have too much practice with the teenaged characters. I knew I wasn't the only one who thought AYA's reveal was so underwhelming! Okay, so maybe he didn't drink that, I'm not so well-versed in the world of molecular science. The iron thing came more from how the water that comes from the tap always tastes like it has iron in it... I'm not sure if that's actually the case, but I don't like it so Phineas doesn't either. Also, that got in my head very quickly, thank you very much.**

 **Jet Engine: Funny, that opinion is going to become a major idea here for a while. You're onto me.**

* * *

Candace's POV

I've done a lot of busting in my time.

So much so that I'm aiming to make a career out of it, given a few years' time.

I owe a large portion of that to my brothers, Phineas and Ferb. They've done a lot to be busted for, and even though I never actually did get them into trouble, they sure have given me practice.

So even though my new busting focus is not those two, my instincts are still there, and if I see anything bustworthy from either of them, you can bet that they're gonna go down.

The problem is, last night... I really have no clue what just went down.

Whatever it was, I realize I shouldn't have been so surprised. They've done so much worse than that before; just a little show of fake fire coming out of Phineas's hands, that's all it was. Right?

That's what I'd think it was if Phineas - and Ferb and Isabella - didn't react so shocked that it happened. Immediately after it did, Phineas muttered something to Ferb and sprinted inside before Isabella could resurface and appologize for letting go; of course she would blame herself first. After Phineas's disappearance (from what I get, his second one that day), Ferb had helped her out of the water and set her up in a chair with a towel and a pop near the DJ stand where he worked. I have to guess that he explained the situation to her, but I couldn't hear the conversation over the music.

Phineas didn't come back to the party. By the time Ferb and I returned to the house, he was already in the boys' room, out like a light.

So when he approaches me on the couch while I flip through the latest issue of Quozmo (that magazine sure has changed over the years), clearly looking to talk to me about it, I don't object. I want answers.

"Hey, um, Candace?" He finally asks, "Can I... Speak with you a moment?"

I close my eyes briefly, nod, toss Quozmo to the side table, and pat the space next to me with the other hand. Phineas promptly accepts the invitation and sits down beside me, shoulders tense and back drooping.

"It-It's about Isabella," he admits.

I raise my eyebrows but lower my eyelids in a teasing expression that I totally did not steal from Ferb. "Oh?"

"Yeah," continues Phineas, "I've been starting to get this weird feeling around her..."

Confused, I begin to pry: "Describe weird."

"Like, whenever I'm near her, my throat swells up, my legs go weak, the room always seems a bit hotter..."

I stare at him blankly. "Phineas," I say quietly, in case the boys let Irving rig the house again, "You two have been going out for how long now?"

He holds up his hands, one fully opened, the other displaying one finger. "Five years," I observe. "And you're only starting to feel this now?"

"Why, is this natural?" He inquires. "Does it happen to everyone?"

I lean in close, looking him in the eyes, then regret it. His head is too weird to be viewed head-on, up close. "If it doesn't," I begin slowly, "I have a hard time believing it's 'love' at all."

Phineas breaks my gaze. "Really?" Asks he, looking utterly befuddled.

I nod, smugly. "Because I think..." He says, "...I think I hate her."

Yes, exactly, what did I-

Wait...

 _What?_

* * *

Vanessa's POV

If there is one person who would know what happened last night, it would be Ferb.

Which is why he is the one I call up the next morning, not his brother. That is the only reason.

On the third ring, he picks up, and only then do I remember: Ferb is terrible at phone calls. "Hey, mister," I greet, used to using that nickname for any one of my brothers.

The other end remains primarily silent, except for a slight blinking sound if one listens closely.

"So, uh, I was wondering if you had any idea what happened last night..." I begin, unsure of where the conversation would go. "You know, with Phineas?"

I can hear a bout of air going into the receiver on the other end, signifying what I believe to be a sigh in denial.

"No, huh?" Again, silence. "Because, well, you're the one who knows him the best, so..."

Another denying sigh, which prompts me to think: "I mean, aren't you? You've been by his side since - I don't really know when, but you both had to be pretty young, right? So the only ones who knew him for longer would have to be Candace or myself, and we've been busy at college recently, or either... Of..." I stop. There was one more person who knew Phineas inside and out for years before he was even born. "...His parents...

"That's it, Ferb!" I realize, putting the pieces together, "That's our next clue, Dad and Linda. We can probably figure all this out by asking one of them. Can I come over later, so we can talk to your mom about it together?"

A faint _ding!_ on the other end affirms this proposal. "Great," I say, "How does noon sound?"

More empty silence.

"True, I guess a time of day doesn't incessantly sound like anything," I realize. "Well, good talk," I sum, "See you then."

I hang up, realizing the boy on the other end hadn't said a word the whole conversation. And yet, that was one of the most productive calls I've made in a long time. It is then that I realize Ferb is terrific at phone calls.

* * *

At approximately 11:59 AM that day, I pull up to the home of my three other siblings. 1423 Maple Drive, the house attached to the apparently famous backyard. The cement pathway up to the front door does not go easy on my black heels as I traverse it, causing me to nearly fall over a couple of times; luckily, I am the picture of grace, so at worst it simply looks to observers like I'm having a very good day and am lightly dancing about it.

Talking a deep breath, I raise my hand and knock on the front door. Just the man I've come to discuss opens it; "Hi, Phin," I greet, "How are you doing today?"

His eyes shine with a certain emotion I can't place, but only for a second. "Great," he answers nervously. "Here, come in."

He turns inside and calls out to our family: "Ferb! Candace! Vanessa's here!"

The two enter the front hallway in that order, the first cracking what only I can identify as a smile and the latter beaming at my choice to come over again. "Hey, what's goin' on?" She asks, as if I had not answered everything that question would encompass yesterday.

"Not all that much more than yesterday," I respond, "Hey, listen. Ferb and I wanted to do something important here, so uh, we're going to have to save that for later, okay?" Phineas and Candace don't respond, their mouths hanging open as if about to say something. I pretend not to take notice, pull my half-step to the side, and finish, "Thanks."

Ferb leads the two of us to the dining room, where Linda is sitting with a book open to about a hundred pages in. "Oh, hello, Vanessa," she says, upon noticing my entrance to the room. She closes the book. "What brings you here?"

"Hi, Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher," I return, pulling up a chair across from her. "Um, Ferb and I were wondering... If..." Why is this so hard, all of the sudden? Ferb sits next to me and puts a hand on my own. "Well, you saw what happened yesterday at Isabella's birthday party, right? What Phineas did?"

"Oh, you mean how he helped Baljeet and his friend come together. Yes, he was just telling me about it this morning."

"No, not that. How towards the end, he and Isabella were dancing, and then..?"

"Did something happen between them?" Linda asks excitedly, "You would think he'd tell me about that first."

"Well, more or less," I explain. "He kind of... Accidentally on purpose dropped her in the pool."

Linda looks surprised. "Oh," she says, "No, I didn't hear. Is that why he came home so soon then?"

"We suspect that. But we were wondering if you knew anything about why it happened, I mean-" I lean in close, dropping my voice to a whisper. "You knew him the longest, did Dad say anything about what could potentially cause animosity between him and Isabella?"

Only now does she realize what I'm referring to. "Now that you mention it, no," she explains, "There was a lot that he kept secret from me. Your mother, if anyone, would know the best, and that's only about Candace. She was originally going to be hers and Phineas's mom, but she deserted Doofenshmirtz shortly before you were born. I only came in about a year before Candace, and most of the planning probably went into her. I don't know if Phineas and Isabella were given any kind of instinct to behave a certain way around each other, but it seems like they've been getting along pretty well. That's really all I can tell you, sorry."

I think this over a bit. "Well Mom can't be any help when it comes to Phineas. That only leaves..." I sigh. "Dad."

I stand up, and Ferb follows me with his gaze. "Thank you for everything, Linda," I say gratefully, removing myself from the table. She dismisses us with a wave of her hand and returns to her book. Ferb follows me into the living room.

"So that's that," I observe, "Apparently I have to have a talk with my father. What do you plan on doing?"

Ferb just looks at me and jabs a thumb behind him, out the back door, where I can see Phineas, Candace, Baljeet, Ginger, and Irving. "Right, you probably have some business to get back to, huh? I guess I'll leave you to that."

I ruffle his green hair, smiling. "See you later, bro," I say, and watch him turn out the sliding glass door. The group, a bit different than normal, probably still wouldn't be able to achieve all that it does without his mechanical skill.

I sigh, watching him jump right into his daily routine. How had I let this happen? It was true, I noticed yesterday. I had suspected a few times prior, but couldn't be sure until Monty and I grew distant a few months ago: I had become entranced, developed the metaphysical "thing," gotten infatuated.

I, Vanessa Doofenshmirtz, have just the smallest little crush on Mister Frank Elvis Richard Brian Fletcher, my distant brother only by law. And it is super illegal.

* * *

Gretchen's Perspective, Observations, and Voice

...I mean, POV

"I really don't know... What if he goes crazy again?"

I terminate my movement in the direction of the house of my comrades. "I see no motivation for such an occurrence to repeat itself in a situation with such differing circumstances," I elaborate, looking Isabella the eyes, "You'll be fine."

"If you say so..." My fellow teenager replies grudgingly.

I place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and the tension she exerts exits her demeanor. We resume our trek to the establishment opposite her place of residence, Phineas's and Ferb's house.

She swings the gate open, chirps her catchphrase cautiously, and enters the backyard; I follow closely in her wake to observe the impending scenario.

Phineas and Ferb turn to face her, the former appearing very uncomfortable in her presence. "Uh, hi," is his reply, while Isabella casts her eyes in my direction containing a look that reads: 'I told you so'.

"We were simply attempting to explain the anomaly that Phineas preformed approximately eighteen hours ago," sneers Baljeet, clearly taking offence at my choice to, once again, enter the backyard and integrate myself in his group of companions. "We do not have any certain explanations yet, however, we have comprised a small number of plausibilities."

"Oh, Baljeet, execute a favor for the entirety of our mass and terminate your endeavor to disprove my intelligence," I request, "It will not be accomplished in the foreseeable future."

Surprisingly, the expected jab at our employment of sophisticated vocabulary from the local bully does not make itself present; then do I take note of said teenager's absence. "Hey, at which location is Buford?" I inquire.

"Oh, he left earlier today to visit his cousin Grenda in some town in... Oregon, I think," answers Phineas, the lone individual of the rest of us that I am certain possesses the capability to follow our unnecessarily complicated conversation. Turning to his stepbrother, he displays his forgetfulness, "What was it called again, Ferb? Zero-Gravity Cataracts, Inertia Falls..?"

"Something like th- _of that nature_ ," Baljeet agrees, obviously forgetting momentarily his need to demonstrate his (inferior) intelligence while I am in his vicinity.

Ginger rests a hand on his shoulder in an act of calming him. Despite her persistent fondness for him (of which he evidently learned only as recently as yestreen, further proving my mind's superiority; I was aware of Irving's infatuation with me for a time period in excess of a half of a decade, while for that time he remained oblivious to unfortunate Ginger's pursuits), her affiliation with me as a friend is perseverant enough to prevent her from choosing a clear side to the rivalry that exists between Baljeet and myself.

While Irving is still a relevant topic, he finally seems to take notice of my appearance. "Gretch," he calls, pushing his shaded glasses further into the bridge of his nose, then spreading his arms wide. With this gesture, the trench coat he included in his latest signature outfit sways out to create the illusion that he is larger than he is in reality; in other words, he looks really cool. It was a shocking development, especially for me, but now Irving is one of the most popular people in our group, save Phineas, Ferb, and Isabella. The latter still seems to regard him with slight disgust, however. "Do you happen to have any clue what happened?"

"Of course," I explain. "Phineas was dancing with Isabella, he dropped her in the pool, and then the air in front of his hands spontaneously combusted into small flames. That's what happened."

"Nice recap," I hear Baljeet mutter, arms crossed.

"Yeah, that's... What I remember of it," Phineas confesses, raising his hand to scratch at his left ear in nervous contemplation. He looks forwards again, and to Isabella, apologizes, "I'm super sorry."

We all shift our attention to Isabella, who doesn't miss a beat before forgiving him. "It's okay. I probably just let go accidentally."

"No, no, that couldn't have happened," returns Phineas. "It was my fault, and now I don't know if I can or will repeat whatever happened." He lifts his hands up, gazing at them in awe, flexing his fingers, likely envisioning a reenactment of the situation in his imagination. Then he smiles slightly. "But you have to admit, it was kind of cool. I shot fire out of my hands!"

"Fortunately for you," I call. "I desire a supernatural power of my own!"

"Yeah," Irving agrees, throwing an arm across my shoulders. "That would be am- _a_ -zing, just imagine. Being able to control fire? Or anything else, for that matter! And I thought there was no way for Phineas and Ferb to get cooler."

Phineas, then, drawing inspiration from my beloved's thought process, snaps his fingers. With this, another miniature tongue of fire comes into existence briefly, seeming to have originated from the space adjacent to his index finger. I appear to be the only person to notice, however. "Of course," he exclaims, a triangle chime and angelic chorus reverberating in the background, "I know what we're gonna do today!"

* * *

 **Gretchen's point of view is tiring to write T.T**

 **Well, well. Here we are, with even more questions than when we started. Why do I feel so excited about destroying Phinabella? Weird.**

 **I always kind of liked Irving as a character, even though it looks like a lot of people don't. So he gets to be cool here. And for the Ferbnessa thing... Yeah. That happened.**

 **Sorry this was somewhat shorter than the others, but I'm thinking this might be around the length of most chapters after this one. I'm aiming for at least 2k words an update, with three POV's, but that is subjective to change depending on what happens (or fails to happen) each chapter.**


	4. The Petrous Briton

**Okay, how did I forget to end with Carpe Diem last time? Aahh!**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Guest numero uno: Thank you very much, I had fun with it. I've been trying to work out how they're related for a while, and I'm sticking with cousins.**

 **Dreadwing216: Thanks, and I definitely will try to!**

 **Guest numero dos: Ah, yes, I love it when I get to pull the rug out from under my readers. And while I don't consider shipping to be bad, per se, too much of it can get annoying. That's why I don't write stories that are solely romance-based, because you simply can't have a story without plot. Also, saying 'approximately 11:59' was me trying to be funny. That doesn't always work. :s Onto Gretchen, well, the one we see in the show is always using those big sesquipedalian words, her nerdy level of vocabulary being her biggest character trait. Of course, that doesn't line up exactly with the one from MfEO, but I think this Gretchen is more in-character than that one and I really enjoy her dynamic from that one to the one in the show. Unfortunately, the rivalry between her and Baljeet will be important, so hang tight. Plus, yeah! If you're going to write first person you have to have IC narration, that's what makes it fun! Lastly, I think you're right. It might be both, but I think the anti-Phinabella here is - if anything - making them more realistic. But it is important to the story.**

* * *

Isabella's POV

Water.

H2O.

That's mine.

Irving was right, for once. Phineas did seem to have the ability to harness the power of the burning flame - which, if I may comment, overwhelmingly suits him. I didn't exactly see what happened yesterday before Phineas ran out of the party (having been mercilessly thrown into the deep end), but whatever it was, we think it was triggered by me. So once Phineas figured out how to use it at will, it was a matter of time before someone or something accidentally got hurt.

This time, it was - you guessed it - Irving Du Bois. And it was in the most hilarious way possible, too. Apparently, Phineas is allergic to this much attention, for one moment when Irving wasn't looking, that triangle took a rather hot sneeze. It wasn't anything serious, but a few embers had landed on the boy's trench coat (Seriously, how does he survive in that? I'm sweating just looking at him!) and the article was quickly singed at the end, the flames threatening to climb up his back.

He took immediate notice of this, but unlike most collected people I know, he decided running around in a cartoonish circle screaming "Put it out!" over and over was a better idea than simply taking it off. When he finally crashed into me, I decided I was fed up with this madness, and put it out. With about a gallon of water.

The only complication here is that I didn't _have_ a gallon of water beforehand. He ran me over and got wet.

So I shove him off, stand up, and take a few steps back. I know I was the one who caused this, I had to have been. I look down at my hands, the way Phineas did earlier, realizing they are very wet.

"You did it, Isabella," a grateful Irving says, not putting together what just happened. Everyone else stares at me in shock, and he wonders, "Why is everyone so quiet?"

I just continue staring at what happened, baffled, making some sort of sound reminiscent of a laugh crossed with a gasp. I try to channel that energy again, to be sure I know how to do what I did; slowly, tiny balls of water begin to accumulate on my hands.

Freaked out by this, I shake my hands off, rubbing them against my dress, to dry them. Suddenly I feel a great force exert itself onto my right side, almost knocking me over a second time. It's Phineas, come to tackle me in a side hug, which lasts only about a second before he pulls away, celebrating, "I knew it! I wasn't the only one."

I look into his smile; of course he's not the only one. I faintly remember the first ten years of each of our lives. He's not the only one.

Then, an amusing idea strikes me, and I can't help but to try it out. I raise a hand, laughing. "High four?"

Phineas's grin widens, and he complies. His hand is searing, but in a comfortable way, and mine is drenched - no, wrinkled. Pruned. It feels awesome.

I continue laughing, eyes closed, attempting to intertwine my fingers with his. For a moment I think I hear him chuckle along too, but he awkwardly pulls away soon after. Confused, I look up, but he turned away.

"Phineas?" I ask, concerned.

He drops his hand. "I-I think it would be best..." He starts suddenly, "If I went inside for a few moments."

I frown and watch him exit the yard, Ferb standing just as concerned to my right. Phineas pulls the door open, doesn't look any of us in the face when explaining, "I just need some water," and slinks deeper into the house.

"You know what I can go for right about now?" Ginger asks, and without waiting for an answer to her rhetorical question, continues, "A line break."

Ferb gets on it. "Where's Perry?"

"...There it is."

* * *

Ferb's POV

Ah, it worked. Always does. I even get the point of view, how about that.

He isn't in the kitchen. He isn't in the dining room. He isn't in the living room. He is in our shared bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the S.S. Phineas, facing the opposite wall.

"Where are the others?" He asks, acknowledging my presence without turning to look at me.

I point in the direction of the backyard, knowing he can't see it.

He turns his head ninety degrees and sighs. "You-You know," he starts, "I really am sorry. But I don't want anything bad to happen when I'm like this." He shifts over to face me, continuing, "You get it, right?"

I close my eyes and nod quickly. He cares too much for anything to happen, even though we both know deep down nothing will. It hasn't all these times in the past, after countless inventions and days where our safety could be questioned.

"And at least now we know Isabella also has some kind of thing going on there..." He brings a hand to his chin and contemplates the meaning of this. "Maybe we can use that to our advantage. If we know who else has it, we can look for a pattern, see what all of us have in common. Maybe the last time we were working with radioactive materials some of it got into our bloodstream, or maybe that friendliness ray we made a couple weeks ago could have had a hidden reverse setting, or something. We just need to see who else has it." He looks at me questioningly, studying my stature. "Do you?"

I shrug, genuinely unsure of whether or not that is the case. Secretly I hope it is, though I am wary of the effects that Phineas seems to be going through concerning Isabella. I couldn't bear to be forced to behave that way around people whose company I enjoy. What if I suddenly begin to feel resentment toward Gretchen, or Vanessa, or even my brother?

Phineas's mouth twists up, as it does sometimes when he is in deepest thought. A few seconds later, he carefully moves off the bed. "Well, we shouldn't keep everyone else waiting. If anything starts to happen, please, can I trust you to stop it?" He pleads, "Like, immediately?"

I place a hand on his shoulder, his face the most worried I've seen in a long time. "I give you my word," I promise.

He smiles, his eyes sympathetic, filled with gratitude. Then I feel something strange myself, not quite realizing how much pressure I'm putting on his shoulder; I involuntarily clamp my eyes shut and place my other hand on a bent knee for support.

"F-Ferb, what's happening?" He asks, his voice dripping with alarm. "Are you okay?"

I try to stop squeezing Phineas's shoulder so hard to signal that, in fact, I am, an effort that ultimately fails.

"Woah, woah, talk to me, bro," Phineas commands. He leads me onto his bed, where I succumb to sitting down, trying to right my breathing enough to accomplish the task Phineas requires of me.

"I... Am fine," I breathe, not wanting to add to my list of lines today. I remember getting up to fourteen once... I shudder.

Phineas is not convinced, however, so I give a small grin and offer a weak thumbs-up. Just a simple head rush, that is all. I'm sure of it.

That is, until I notice how downright dizzy I am. It's as if... As if I can feel the world rotating under my feet.

And apparently, I'm not the only one to feel it, either. Phineas keeps "Wo-oh-oah!"-ing, and even in here I can hear Isabella's high-pitched squeal: "Earthquake!"

On second thought, I'm beginning to think it was Baljeet.

"Ferb!" Phineas gasps, and I can hear something glass clattering to the ground. Despite the urgency in his voice, I can see a grin on his face. "You have. To calm. Down!"

I begin to inhale deeper, more slowly. There is still tension in my being, but somehow I manage not to get rid of the dizziness, but get used to it. "There," Phineas pants reassuringly, "There, that's it. It's slowing down. There you go..."

Once he is sure the shaking stopped (though I still feel the spinning), he holds my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. "And I thought I was unstable," he notes.

I close my eyes, fall backwards, give another thumbs-up, and let fatigue take me over.

* * *

Candace's POV

"Okay, what was _that_?" I demand, turning away from my conversation with Vanessa. Why she felt the need to leave so badly, I don't know, but that isn't my greatest concern right now.

"I think I heard Baljeet say there was an earthquake," says my sister, who follows me out into the backyard, ready to help investigate.

"Hey, what's going on out here?" I wonder, "Did Phineas and Ferb make that earthquake generator thing from a few summers ago again?"

"Uh, I don't remember them ever doing that," Isabella comments. Oh, right, it was _that_ day, and didn't happen. Well, it happened, but then it un-happened. I don't try to understand it...

"Well, whatever," I dismiss. "But at least tell me everyone's okay. Where _are_ my brothers, anyway?"

"We are fine, and they are inside," Baljeet assures. Gretchen looks to him as if offended.

I sigh. "Okay, I'm going to go have a little talk with them. You guys hang tight, I'll be back."

"What about me?" Vanessa asks.

I pause midway into going through the door into the house. "What does 'hang tight' mean?" I ask, somewhat coldly.

Vanessa opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. I continue on inside.

* * *

They were in the last room in the house I looked. That was because I stopped looking when I found them. It was also the first place I looked, as it was their bedroom.

I stop to take in the room for damages, it being on the second floor of a house that was just hit with an earthquake, or whatever it was. A picture frame depicting Phineas, Isabella, and Ferb, the girl's arms around my brothers, had fallen to the floor. The glass had cracked around the redhead's position in the photo, and I can't help but to feel it's symbolic, for some reason.

Other than that, though, the room and the boys look fine. Ish. Ferb is laying down on Phineas's bed with his brother sitting close by.

"Phineas," I begin, once I have his attention, "What happened? Is Ferb okay?"

"Sure, just tired," he says, and Ferb (apparently he is at least a little awake) lifts a finger, twirling it about in a circular motion. "And dizzy," Phineas adds.

"But you're sure that wasn't from anything you guys made, right?" I think for a moment. "Hey, why aren't you guys outside with your friends? It looks like they're waiting for you out there."

"Actually, we're starting to think maybe... Ferb did that.

"Remember yesterday, Candace? With... With the fire?" Phineas does not wait for an answer; instead, he stands up and lifts one finger, as if pointing to a spot on the ceiling. Before I have the time to direct my attention to the cloud wallpaper-covered top of the room, above his finger forms a tiny bit of fire. As if it were a candle, or something.

"I can do this whenever I want," he explains after blowing out the flame. "I don't know how, but I can. Likewise, Isabella can control water, and Ferb..."

We turn to our stepbrother. "I think he has Earth."

"That's ridiculous," I mutter instinctively.

"But you just saw me do it," Phineas says, "I can get Isabella to show you hers, too, she's better at controlling it than me. But I think I'm better at it than Ferb, so..." He shrugs.

I cross my arms. "So what you're saying is, something totally cool, weird, and dangerous is happening to you and your friends, and no one has any kind of clue what's going on? I wouldn't be as surprised if you were in control of it all."

"Yeah, we really are in the dark with this one," Phineas explains. "Oh, and one more thing. I... Can't go anywhere near Isabella. Remember what I was telling you earlier? I just can't have anything like what happened yesterday repeat itself. I know what I said, but, I still care for her safety."

 _Because I think... I think I hate her._ My brother's words from this morning echo in my head, not daring to make any sense. He described the sensation as something he didn't want or choose to feel, one he tries to fight. If I hadn't seen what I just did, I wouldn't have believed him. It's crazy talk - and that's coming from me!

"So, what now?" I ask.

"We try to figure out who else has it, naturally," Phineas determines, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"All right, then," I agree, "But where to start?"

"Well," Phineas starts, moving towards the door, "We do have a backyard full of people."


	5. The Volitant Polyglot

**Hey, is anybody else noticing how this story's cover keeps spazzing out? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my avatar, but not when it's supposed to be Misspent! Is this happening to anyone else?**

 **Review Responses!**

 **Dreadwing216: Hm... Maybe, maybe not. Not yet. Of course, if I knew what you were talking about I'd probably have an easier time explaining if and/or when that will happen. The first part of that review, I mean. The second part I've been planning to do since Day 1.**

 **Galaxina-the-Seedrian: ...Yup, or at least, those reasons are related. If it makes sense now, hold on tight because that might change! Anyway, if it's the Air element you want, read this chapter. Here's the more darn it that you wanted. XD**

 **Jet Engine: Ha, don't worry about it. I talk to people who don't exist all the time. ^^ Anyway, I just did update, so there.**

 **The Real Guest: Ah, I was wondering when people were going to start making that connection. Actually, I know very little about A:TLA, but the idea of bending stuff has always fascinated me so that's kind of where I'm going here. Just, not quite. But I wasn't expecting the Pokemon connection either - that's very observational of you! I've just left it after giving them all types. Oh, are you talking about that Cool Math Games thing? Gee, I haven't played that in so long.**

 **Rainbowleaf9987: Uh, pretty much what I said to Guest up there. It isn't exactly A:TLA, but that's kind of the gist of the characters' powers. The difference is, A:TLA is more of a fantasy thing (from what I get) while this is sci-fi - the difference is subtle, but important. About your predictions, well, continue reading and some things will be cleared up. I'm not saying what you got right or wrong just yet.**

* * *

Gretchen's Perspective... No, POV

It was a lengthy period of time to endure prior to the readdition of Phineas, Ferb, and Candace to the yard. "Great, you're back," Isabella exclaims, "So, what was that all about, Phineas?"

The adolescent reaches up behind his left ear to fiddle with it in his nervous state. "We believe you and I aren't the only ones, Isabella," he reveals, and is rewarded with the attention of the entirety of observers in the area. Ferb steps up from behind him, with Phineas placing both his hands on his shoulders as if showing off his brother.

"Today's earthquake, brought to you by Ferb," explains Phineas in an advertisory fashion, Ferb simply blinking and shrugging as if it required no effort to accomplish.

Vanessa, who had previously joined our conversation, points with skepticism at Ferb. "Him?" She breathes, unbelieving, "Ferb, you did that?"

The boy nods, although it is clear in his mannerisms that he is experiencing difficulty standing up. "Ferb, are you physically stable and comfortable in your current position?" I ponder, "That is to say, are you okay?"

"Oh, he's fine," Phineas explains, despite the question being aimed at a differing speaker. "Just dizzy, right?"

Ferb nods again.

"But what we really want to find out is, is there anyone else here that has an ability like that?" Candace impedes. "Because in theory, any of us can, but if we can find a pattern, maybe we can figure out how all this happened."

"You have a point. So far we are only aware of the abilities of Phineas, Ferb, and Isabella," sums Baljeet, who apparently forgot to replace 'aware' with 'cognizant', "So that could mean basically anything within the boundaries of their experiences."

I interrupt, willing to accept credit for this thought process. "So what you're saying is, there is a higher probability to have an ability of that nature when one has become close to the three said people? It would then be logically sound to assume that that also applies more to people who have been around them for the longest periods of time, and more recently."

"So does that mean you might have it, Gretchen?" Phineas offers, taking me by surprise. "Because you've done a lot of the same things we have, especially recently. And you had a lot of the same early experiences as us, too."

"That possibility did not occur to me..." I admit, looking to the sky in thought. "Although it does seem feasible. Actually, Irving likely fits that description most accurately. Candace and Vanessa have been primarily absent over the past year or so, and you have known him the longest of the remainder of people in this assembly."

"All except Baljeet, yeah."

The Indian teenager delivers me a brief, disappointed glance, which I return with a look that reads: _I considered you, but didn't feel it necessary to voice that possibility._

Then again, while I am fluent in English, Spanish, Ferb Latin, and Dolphin (Ferb's instructing me, though I am a bit rusty), my Silence needs some improvement. I am increasingly starting to believe I just accidentally insulted his family's peanut butter recipe.

Baljeet looks at the ground, obviously confused at what I had just implied. Yes, it was probably the peanut butter thing.

"You two don't get along all that well, huh?" Observes Vanessa, referring indubitably to Baljeet and myself.

"About as well as a zero does underneath a fraction sign, I am afraid," explains my rival.

"So like you to make a mathematical reference, Baljeet," I jab, "The entirety of the population is cognizant of the fact that English and history are the two superior subjects, and because I excel in both more than you do, I possess more intellectual capacity. It is simple logic."

"Do not use logic against me!" Shouts and aggravated Baljeet, "It was invented by one of my own counterparts in Medieval times."

"Incorrect, that was purely fiction," I insist. "Theoretically you would have known that if not for your identification with the _Speckies_ and insistence to promote inferior subjects."

"Math and science are all but inferior," Baljeet counters. "Thanks to what fields of education were the greatest inventions known to man created? Did Thomas Edison prefer to read a story or experiment with the technology behind the lightbulb? All these summers, was it not Phineas and Ferb, the most highly trained mathematical geniuses in this town before my own, the ones who made every day count for something? You are underestimating such a great influence on today's culture, it makes me sick!"

"I never underestimated those subjects. I simply stated the obvious fact that more brainpower and effort are required to effectively study English and social studies than objective subjects such as math and science - which I do respect, and at which I am very experienced. There is hardly any thinking involved, when there exists such a limited number of clear answers."

"How could you say that? Of course, I possess astounding talent in English and social studies as well, I simply have _preferences_. The thought processes required to be even acceptable in my best subjects are highly complex."

I can hear Vanessa mutter something of the nature of how she regrets audiating her previous observation. Ginger steps up in an attempt to calm her partner; likewise, I can feel a hand (presumably Irving's) on my arm. However, one does not need to look closely to notice the redness of Baljeet's agitated face. And if his face is red, the notion of my face's appearance alone is enough to intimidate me.

Yet I press on, shaking the hand off my arm. What part of this is has the slightest potential to become physical? We are but two enthusiastic scholars engaged in a passionate debate over which is more educationally advanced. Two nerds trying to prove each is the smarter one, if you will.

"Baljeet, I will not tell you again. I am more intelligent, so terminate your endeavors to prove otherwise. Come on - I wear glasses, that should be a dead giveaway!"

"My eyesight might be fine on its own, but I remind you: I am Indian!"

"And I'm Mexican. So that proves what?"

"I fit into a nerd stereotype, you fit into a nerd stereotype. They cancel out like two opposite values on either side of the equal sign in an equation."

"Well, at the very minimum, I have the ability to freely use any words I desire - _including_ contractions! Face it, Baljeet: I am above you."

To my utter shock, he complies. "...Yes," he observes suddenly, and I realize my altitude necessitates him looking up to be able to meet my eyes.

I realize I am currently suspended multiple yards above the ground, with nothing but air below me.

"Yes, you are."

"Hey, can you see Perry from up there?" Phineas inquires.

I scan the yard, then ask the inevitable: "At which location is Perry?"

* * *

Perry's POV

...Someone asked where I am, didn't they?

Of course; this tends to happen. But what's done is done, and now you get to witness my side of the story.

After Vanessa graduated high school and had less of a chance to spy on her father, I was reassigned back to a more permanent job making sure he wasn't up to no good (an acceptable double negative). The troubling thing was, he hasn't been up to no good for years, after becoming a science teacher at Danville High, so OWCA wouldn't bother assigning someone to him if they didn't suspect. That's where I come in; they suspected.

Either that, or they wanted me back into a position where my abilities could be used effectively for what might be the last time, with my body just beginning to show the slightest signs of deterioration. I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

So over the course of my reassignment, only recently have I noticed something was up. Doofenshmirtz had gotten increasingly discreet in his work, and had spent less and less time outside Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated. Which, to my surprise, was still named that way, which was probably a reason OWCA had for keeping an eye on him.

There wasn't much that had changed inside the building (although Norm's looking better), and while Doofenshmirtz did not quite seem normal, he never has in the first place.

But then yesterday happened, and the entirety of my attention was directed to my family. I've been spying on them all day, watching one after another gain some sort of control over a certain category of... thing. It's hard to describe. So far, my list includes Phineas, with fire, Isabella, with water, Ferb, with Earth, and now Gretchen, with air. What's next, if anything, I don't know.

And while Phineas's plan to search for a pattern intrigued me, none of them seem to have sensed the obvious one.

Phineas and Isabella were the first to find out about their powers, and the only ones so far with a greater effect - that being the new light Phineas sees Isabella in. So my quest for answers immediately takes me back to what they have in common: their past.

I suspect Doofenshmirtz. At least as far as Phineas is concerned.

Then Ferb and Gretchen. They are essentially each other's counterparts, being the closest ones to Phineas and Isabella, respectively. And what do they have in common? Affiliation with OWCA, or a similar agency.

So, what can we conclude? It is possible that that agency's connection to those affected might be the very reason they are. And the closest I've seen to anyone making this conclusion is Vanessa.

Therefore, I must follow her plan. On all fours, eyes unfocused, I approach the group and rattle my bill. Heads turn to face me, some that know of my secret, some utterly in the dark.

"Oh, there you are, Perry," Phineas says. I make sure not to be anywhere near him, however, making my way to Vanessa. Hopefully she understands my request.

"Hey... Perry," she greets, clearly more familiar with my anthropomorphism than my mindless disguise. "Are you seeing this? Gretchen is... Flying."

Yes, I am seeing this. It is pretty cool. Now let's go before something else funky happens.

I chatter again, this time less patiently. She seems to get the picture.

"Um, you know, it occurs to me that I have - a thing - to go - do," she says slowly, unsure of how to properly excuse herself. The rest of the group looks inquisitively up at her (well, down to her, in Gretchen's case), but does not make any attempt to stop her.

I follow the woman around the side of the house, where she kneels down to ask, "Hey, what's up? Do you have any clue what's going on?"

I stand up, fedora donned, then shake my head. I point at her.

"Oh... You want to follow me." I nod.

She looks back and forth, making sure the coast is clear. "Okay," she agrees, "Get in the car."

* * *

Phineas's POV

Not everyone in the yard knows about Perry's secret. Candace doesn't. Baljeet doesn't. Ginger doesn't. But Ferb does, and Gretchen, and Irving, and Vanessa, and Isabella.

And me. I do too.

Isabella and I only figured it out about four years ago, on what really was the best day ever. We had crashed into our old apartment, saw Doofenshmirtz again (Irving had to make it look like we had never met, for some reason), and went on this crazy adventure into another dimension.

Just about everyone I knew learned of Perry's secret that day, and I have to say, I was shocked. Appalled, even. Some might say... What's the word? Angry. I couldn't believe that he would keep such an important thing from me, even after we moved onto Maple Drive. At the end of the day, however, we were all forced to step up to the Amnesia-Inator and forget the entire day.

Oh, Isabella. You sneaky little girl.

Sorry, just going through the events of that day in my head. See, the two of us both remembered the day - it's times like these when having a photographic memory is useful.

Only afterwards did I learn that Ferb was also a part of the agency, though he had quit, and had knew of Perry's secret for about a year before we did. As had Gretchen and Irving, and Vanessa knew for a much longer time.

I was too tired to be mad.

But this all becomes relevant now, when I see Perry and Vanessa having some kind of conversation with their eyes. A few minutes after the two leave and I'm still trying to figure out what they're scheming. Clearly they are trying to figure out what's going on, and I have the right to know as well; I know I have something to do with this - the dream I had a few nights ago must have been related to what's going on now. The last lines echo in my memory: _And beware the wrath of the man who walks on the right path..._

I desperately await a way out of the situation, to go follow them, engage in their endeavor. Luckily, the familiar sounds of the local mailwoman arriving provide the greatest excuse.

"I'll get it," I call, running around to the front of the house. Everyone else was preoccupied watching Gretchen do her thing anyway.

I open the mailbox, vaguely aware that today's Sunday and therefore no mail should be coming in. Strange.

I rifle through the envelopes, feigning interest. Then I don't have to; I become genuinely interested when I spot a letter addressed to me.

I sit down on the curb and read farther into it. There is no return address.

Confused, I slip the paper out of the envelope and read the four measly words scrawled across it.

 _Please come, kiddo._  
 _-Dad_

And something tells me it wasn't from Lawrence.


	6. The Evil Brother

**So, only two POV's this chapter, but a lot goes down. Just read it to see what I mean.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Dreadwing216: Well, considering you reviewed that day, it's not difficult to imagine. Unless you hacked into my account and read it before it was published... O.O**

 **Rainbowleaf9987** **: Hah, no worries. Happens to the best of us. XD Thanks, IC-ness has been sort of a problem in this series, so I'm glad to know it's getting better. That's one of the reasons for the random switch to first person, to see if that could be improved.**

 **Jet Engine: That depends. Bad for whom? Anyway, consider this thingy updated!**

* * *

Candace's POV

I don't know if anyone else is suspicious, but I have all the reason to be. It's been an eventful few days, and Phineas has become the rightful center of attention. Except right now, of course, with Gretchen's argument with Baljeet and subsequent reveal that _she can fly!_ But Phineas is the one who started it. Accuse me of jumping to conclusions and placing blame on my brother after years of not busting him, if you must, but all this time has trained me to be able to know when something's up.

The first thing that sends the red flags up is Perry's appearance in the yard. I know, it's strange; he's just a platypus, and everyone knows they don't do much, right? Well, you might be surprised to know that he is really... A secret agent!

I found out about four years ago. On a family vacation to Africa, there had been a slight mixup in which I had been convinced my wonderful relationship with Jeremy had been abruptly terminated.

Spoiler alert, it wasn't real. The only part of that conversation that involved breaking up was the phone signal.

So there I was, roaming Africa, believing that I was inadequate to be a part of society. You know, the usual post-breakup trauma. So what did I do? I joined the monkeys. Even sung about it.

But I'm guessing you all knew that already. Irving only ever paid attention to the big parts of my story. He didn't always get the full picture.

During my time as the lovely jungle princess (or whatever they had crowned me) Candar, I had come across something totally mind-numbing: a fight between various jungle animals - Perry included - alongside a pharmacist and a man in a Nehru jacket against a nerd with a purple cape on commanding an army of robots that looked like various people I know, and some that I don't.

So obviously I had finally gone crazy. Like I said, it was mind-numbing. My mind had been numbed.

Or, that's what I had thought up until the point where Phineas and Ferb actually _found_ Perry. On the continent of Africa. Not a platypus that _looks_ like Perry; Perry. I had tried to bring up the fact that I saw him being anthropomorphic, but did they listen? No-oo. Still, I couldn't dismiss this as mere coincidence. So from that point on I watched Perry like a hawk, until he threw on a fedora and acted like the secret agent I knew he was in front of my brothers. They had already known.

At first I wanted to expose them; I finally had something I could really bust them for! But after a while I figured out that there was a reason they hadn't told anybody. Apparently, if the government found out anyone but Ferb had learned about his secret, he would be forced to leave our family.

So I kept it to myself. The one thing I could have actually busted them for, the one consistency that could have been my ticket to Bustville. The one opportunity I couldn't grab, no matter how many times it had presented itself to me.

Oh, Perry knows. He's fully aware of how I saw him in action. Just, my brothers don't. I didn't know I could trust him to keep any kind of secret from them.

Anyway, when he approached Vanessa after all this started happening I knew something was going on between them. I honestly wouldn't have if not for my sister's extra-suspicious behavior. They both left the yard, and shortly afterwards, Phineas did.

Phineas came back, of course. Perry and Vanessa didn't.

"Mail's here," my brother says upon reentering the backyard, waving four or five envelopes in the air to indicate that his discovery was true. Nothing suspicious there, until one notices that one of them already boasts a tear along the topmost edge; it had been opened.

No one really notices or cares, that is, apart from me. Some girl is flying around our backyard, what else is there really to watch? But I know better. Whatever my siblings are scheming, I'm going to figure it out.

Busting Candace is back, baby.

* * *

Phineas's POV

The rest of the day pretty much went as normal.

We defied possibility, we seized the day, and in Ferb's case, we literally shook the Earth. Gretchen offered rides to those who wanted to climb onto her back or hold her hand while she flew them around town. Unsurprisingly, Irving was the only one to take her up on it. Isabella became very fluent in her abilities, which should be a given. Me? I sort of got better at it, but I still have to be careful. Occasionally when I get too close to her I'll accidentally shoot off some flames, but other than that... Yeah, I need practice. Ferb hasn't set off any more 'quakes, but he did do a little trick with the maple tree and seems to be used to the dizziness. And I'm relatively sure no big government agency is looking for us, despite our outrageous endeavors. They never seem to notice.

So, pretty much normal.

Then again, that modifier has to be there for a reason. There was the constant 'I have to stay away from Isabella' fear, not to mention the mysterious note I got earlier. There is only one person I know - no, _knew_ \- who called me that.

I honestly can't say I hate him. Really, after everything he did, everything he lied to me about, everything he kept from me. I don't know why, exactly. I haven't even been thinking about it, until a couple of days ago. He had entirely left my mind, just a faint memory of the life I had before, the life of the boy named... _Perfeneas_.

And for some reason, just recently I've been starting to feel like that boy wants another go.

Now, I know going to Doofenshmirtz has to be a trap. I haven't seen him in almost four years, and I have no clue what he wants from me. But I can bet that if he wants me bad enough, he won't hold back, and I can't endanger my family and friends because of it.

I'm always looking for adventure. So when I get a note like this, I can't just ignore it. It's not in my nature.

I sigh, fold the letter (if you can call it that) into fourths, and tuck it into my cargo pocket. It might not even be anything important, he might just want to, I don't know, catch up over lunch, or something. It's unlikely, but it could happen.

I lift a finger in front of my face, concentrating very hard on the space above it. I relax my arm, take a deep breath, and there it is: a little flame, stationary, burning above my finger.

If Doofenshmirtz really wants to do anything to harm me, I know I can defend myself. Intimidation could work if I can do it right. Besides, he might just know what's going on with me. That might be what this is about.

And one thing's for certain: I'm not having a normal day tomorrow. Not with Isabella there. She may be perfect, but I'm not. And I'm tired of it.

That's it, then. I'm going to Dad's tomorrow.

And you can bet I'm not talking about Lawrence.

* * *

 _You haven't seen your father in almost four years. It's okay, he won't hurt you. He was family for over a decade. Remember? It will all be fine._

A faint voice in my head tells me that things will go smoothly as I stare at the elevator door and gulp. I have to be apprehensive. I take a deep breath, almost forget to release it, and push the button.

Floor 66. It even looks evil.

For some reason I feel more comfortable running the whole way down the corridor, to the room that says 'Doofenshmirtz'.

Oh gosh.

I take a moment to right my breathing. Yes, this is definitely the place, the same building, the same hallway I remember. I stare into the peephole in the door to see if I can make out his figure.

Deciding that nothing is going to happen if I just stand there, I cringe and ring the doorbell. A jingle I don't recognize plays, and for a gut-wrenching second I can hear his voice, calling, "I'll get it!"

No, I shouldn't have done this. I should just run back down the hall. No, but then he'd see me, and - whoo, I'm going to have to do this, huh?

The door opens partially, kept locked by a simple chain attached to the door and the frame. I see his pale face, sizing me up for a second, then turning ecstatic. His smile seems evil as I had come to expect it.

The door closes quickly and I can hear the lock sliding back into the doorframe, allowing Doofenshmirtz to swing open the door and look me right in the face.

He doesn't hesitate to make me extremely uncomfortable. "Perfeneas!" He announces, instantly throwing his arms around me in a very metallic bear hug.

If you thought you knew what 'awkward' meant, think again. Awkward isn't simply standing around in silence with someone you don't know that much. It isn't having a good time with a friend and one of you starts laughing for too long. Heck, and even though Ferb would disagree, awkward isn't even realizing the person you have a crush on is actually related to you in some way. Awkward is living with an evil scientist for ten and a half years without knowing his true morals, running away to live with your best friend who is secretly your stepbrother, discovering you have powers - that you didn't give yourself, no less - receiving four words from the evil scientist, and showing up to his apartment after as many years to find yourself trapped the second you step in the door by a display of affection, of all things.

Right when I think Doofenshmirtz is going to let go, he doesn't. Instead he keeps his arms there, quite literally breathing down my back; I can tell his eyes are closed by the way he refuses to let go and breathes in a way that makes it clear he's taking my return seriously. I don't know what exactly I was or should have been expecting, but this doesn't really seem like Doofenshmirtz as I had seen him last. Either he's changed, my memory is failing, or this is affecting him much more than the laconic note from yesterday made it seem as though it would.

"It's been much too long," he continues, pulling his act together a little. "Ever since they put that restraining order against me, my -Inators have all been _seriously_ lacking."

Heart in my throat, I push him off and scan the place. Everything appears to be as it was when I left it. Not a lot changed at all. My eyes flicker towards the room that used to be mine; its previously pure white door had been painted over in purple. A green 'N' has also taken residence there, in a sloppy, hurried paint job.

Candace's room - what used to be her room, anyway - had been given to Vanessa before she moved out.

I am taken out of my thoughts by a strange voice, not Doofenshmirtz's, calling to me: "Hello, visitor!" I turn and spot a tall, grinning man stationed comfortably at the dining room table. He wears a suit and has one leg crossed over the other, a newspaper laid out on the table in front of him. I feel as if I've heard his voice before, but perhaps that's because it is more on the generic side. It is sharp and bright and friendly and familiar, though I can't place it. Might sound like some cartoon character I used to enjoy, or something.

He saunters up to me, though his movements seem to be almost unnatural somehow. Maybe he suffers from some kind of handicap.

"You haven't been here for a while, have you?"

"No, not for a long time," I answer, not understanding how he could know that. I look to Doofenshmirtz for answers, but the scientist merely wears this - is it proud? - grin on his face, expecting me to figure it out myself. This couldn't be what he had called me over for... Could it?

"Okay, then. Back to my crossword!" The stranger declares, moving rhythmically back to the table and diverting his attention back to the newspaper. I press my eyebrows together. This isn't what I came for. It's a waste of my time.

Then, the mystery man says something I completely did not expect. "Dad," he starts, "How do you spell, 'shore'?'"

I mean, duh! It's a simple five-letter word! He looks around in his thirties, he should have learned that decades ago. He should have-

Hold on. Back up.

Did he just call Doofenshmirtz... Dad?

After the initial twinge of jealousy, it becomes clear who this person really is.

My mouth hangs open, and all I can do is point to the man, scanning Doofenshmirtz's face for confirmation. "Uh, is that..." I begin, in utter shock, " _Norm?_ "

"Ha-ha, not anymore!" Doofenshmirtz declares from behind me, "Now, the Neo-Operational Robot Man has became the Neo-Operational _Real_ Man! And Nerd. He's actually very nerdy."

"That's right!" The man says proudly, "My new name is Norman! It's so different!"

I get to about Blink Number Fifteen before I realize I even have been blinking so much in shock. That explains his slightly robotic mannerisms and familiar voice, which was the same from when he was a robot, just a bit looser and more natural. His speech patterns are not quite the same as a typical human's, but he definitely sounds more comfortable using it.

"But-But how did this - m-my brother's a human!"

I admit, I didn't quite know Norm all that well in his mechanical form, what with him spending so much time here. But I did get to cross paths with him once or twice, living with him vicariously through Perry and Vanessa. After a while, we decided, 'You know what? I'm this guy's ex-son. I'm this guy's robot who wants to be his son. Let's be friends!' And since Vanessa already regarded him as a sibling, he had over the years turned into almost another brother for the four of us - Ferb, Candace, Vanessa, and I. But then once Vanessa left for college and our family's ties to Doofenshmirtz almost dissolved, we weren't able to see Norm for a long time.

And it looks like Doofenshmirtz has been busy.

"You must be wondering how this development happened," the scientist begins. "See, it was for Vanessa's final science project at the end of high school. She refused to do it with a partner, so she had a lot to choose from as far as what the project could be went, with myself as her guide.

"At the same time, Norm started malfunctioning pretty badly. He ran on squirrel power, and his squirrel was - well, not looking so hot. He had always pestered me about wanting to be a real human, and my son - which he wasn't! You, kiddo-" he wrapped an arm around me - "have always been my real son. But then that genetics branch I used to work for had come across a major discovery. We were able to make totally-functioning, carbon-based cells, tissues, organs - enough to put together an entire person!

"So naturally, I - uh, borrowed - that technology from the team, brought it back to the lab, and got to work. You should have seen Vanessa's face when I told her what we were doing - she was all, 'You want me to help you put Norm in _that_!?' And I was like, 'No, I want to help _you_ put Norm in that!' Because it was her project, I was just trying to get Norm to shut up about wanting to be real and all. So we took the remaining life force from his squirrel, put his artificial intelligence onto it, and transferred it all to his new human body! Isn't it genius?"

I have to admit, that does sound remarkable.

Okay. So my robot brother is now my human-squirrel brother in a 35-year-old's body.

Totally goes by the norm in my world, no pun intended.

But pun totally appreciated.

* * *

 **...Misleading chapter title is misleading. And obvious Avengers 2 reference is obvious. Disclaimer, that's the movie that gave me the inspiration about how to make Norm human, so.**

 **OhmygoshNorm'sahuman.**

 **Umm, so, that happened.**


	7. The Deceitful Note

**It's Wednesday! That means Misspent time!**

 **So, heh, what** ** _happened_** **yesterday, right? Weird that the site up and kept us all from our accounts there. Stinks 'cause I reeaally wanted a Waiting To Be Told up that day, but now... I'm working on it, technical issues but it'll be up ASAP. In the meantime, enjoy, and let's all be glad we survived that!**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Galaxina-the-Seedrian: Liked the chapter, huh? Thanks a bunch, it's really hard to get that dynamic right since Phineas and Doof hardly ever interact in the show... ever, so it's more of a fanfiction thing. Hard to judge which is the right or wrong way to do it. Still, your enthusiasm is appreciated, so here's hoping we can keep it up! :)**

 **MagicQuill42: Yay for puns. Great, I'm not so good at awkwardness in writing, so hang in there haha.**

 **Rainbowleaf9987: I know, right? Hm, electricity isn't bad! Considering this =/= A:TLA anyway. What would I have, you ask? Gosh, I don't know. Pretty much anything except Earth, I guess. I've been trying to figure that out for ages.**

 **Jet Engine: Precisely the point; where's the fun if there isn't at least a little weirdness?**

 **Dreadwing216: Oh, sorry, I wasn't accusing you of doing that. I was just joking around, and besides, my account is super secure! Can't have anyone taking a look at my unpublished documents, can I?**

 **Guest: Oh man, that would be awkward. I've thought about it, but didn't expect anyone else to... Just, the possibilities.**

 **And another thing before we start: As of yesterday, September 1, my school year has officially started up, so that means updates might come a bit later. Plus, with this chapter I just caught up to myself with how much I have left unpublished, so that might... Put a damper on the schedule... Yeah. On that note, read.**

* * *

Isabella's POV

Wrong.

Eccentric.

Inexplicable.

Ridiculous.

Different.

That's exactly how Phineas has been acting ever since that time at the ice cream parlor: _weird._

I've caught on, of course. I know Phineas like the back of my hand. I extend my arm out a bit, looking at it, at all four fingers outstretched, and notice some nail polish cracking on my index finger nail. That's new. Okay, maybe that wasn't the best comparison. But the point is, I know something's up, and I don't like it one bit.

Don't get me wrong, Phineas is as fun and exciting and happy as ever. It's just that he doesn't seem to be himself lately, at least around me. And I wouldn't be surprised, we are about at that awkward phase, but I feel like if it had anything to do with that then this would not be a new thing, that he would act all strange around me whenever he saw me for the past five years. But no, and I don't think that's the problem.

I sigh, feeling a strange, uneasy feeling fighting its way into my abdomen. Whatever the case, I'm going to keep coming over until he tells me not to, to see if I can find anything out. I push open the gate.

"Hi, Phh..." I stare at the backyard, drawling out the sound. Phineas isn't here. "...Ffferb," I finish, saving myself, silently thanking the boys' parents for giving them alliterate names. "Whatcha doin'?"

My friend turns, arms crossed, sitting in his lonesome at the foot of the tree. He stands up, waving me over; I comply.

Ferb places his hands on the bark of the tree. Immediately, spuds of tiny branches form where he touches it, growing rapidly, twisting themselves into some sort of pattern. After about thirty awe-filled seconds, a message in the green becomes visible: _Hello, Isabella._

"Show-off," I playfully say with a laugh, and he meets my eyes with an oh-so-slightly amused look. "Watch this."

It being relatively early, I can count on there to still be dew on the grass. Focusing on my own center of gravity and ignoring the nauseous feeling I'm starting to get, I pull the miscellaneous drops around me towards where the two of us are standing. Ferb looks around at the scene, noticing the peculiar way this movement causes the blades of grass to bend themselves towards us. Carefully, I raise my hands and watch as thousands of tiny droplets lift themselves up into the air, floating suspended in the atmosphere, each holding a tiny reflection of our faces.

Ferb raises his eyebrows, seeming to be pleased with how well I can control my powers, especially since he's been so unstable. He folds his hands behind his back and is lifted up by the ground shifting slightly, smoothly underneath him, carrying him back to the tree without him having to walk a step. He turns around so that his message from earlier is shielded from my line of sight, and does something to it; when he steps away I can see he changed it to say one word: _Impressive_.

"You know, I'm not gonna lie," I begin, "I do kind of wish Phineas could see this."

Ferb reads the question in my eyes, to which he replies with a shrug. "You don't know where he is?" I interpret, feeling a little sick again. "That complicates things."

He reaches into a pocket and unfolds a small piece of paper, then hands it to me. The handwriting on it is clearly Phineas's: _Need a new flange tuner. It's almost impossible to find so go on without me today. -Phin_

Piecing together the situation, I wonder, "What happened to the one Candace got him?"

Ferb replies simply. "Peanut butter incident."

"Oh." Yeah, that wasn't fun for any of us. It's never fun to have allergies, in the first place.

"So... Do we have a plan?"

Ferb looks up in thought. He turns back to me with a blank stare, showing nothing coming to mind.

"Well, at least it looks like you're getting in control a little more," I say, trying to make conversation. Now something really starts to feel wrong with me, like I ate something bad before...

He shakes his head. "What, you aren't? Then what was all that before?"

A shrug, and I realize he's just being modest. Figures. I try to right my breathing, but I'm really starting to feel a bit queasy. Before I know it, I can feel Ferb holding me up, a hand on my head. I realize I'm in a cold sweat.

Ferb sets me down on the ground, holds up a finger, and dashes inside. Seconds later he returns with a bottle of water, which he tosses my way, and a thermometer, with which he takes my temperature. I definitely have a fever.

He kneels down to my level, and shows me the readings. 104 Fahrenheit, yikes. Thankfully, unlike the other strange occurrences over the past few days, he seems to have an explanation for this one.

"Salmonella," he says.

* * *

Perry's POV

Nothing. Nope, nada. No siree. That's about as much as we had found out yesterday at the D.E.I. And today, I'll be honest, does not look promising.

Besides, I have much more important things to focus on right now. Phineas hasn't been home all day, and all we have to find out where he is is a note he left Ferb. Clearly he was lying; he always writes with his left hand when he does, and the ink smudges in the right direction show that he certainly is _not_ getting a flange tuner.

So as I await a signal from Ferb, or Vanessa, or Monogram, to find out how they can get my help, I make myself useful and stay out of the way. It's breezy on top of the roof of the house, but that's appreciated, as with a coat of fur I can't easily remove the summer heat does get a bit unbearable sometimes.

I'm shaken from my thoughts as a voice from the front yard calls my name. "Perry!" It's Candace. Swiftly I move out of the way to avoid her seeing me, but apparently to no avail; "Hey, don't think I can't see you up there on the roof, Mr. the Platypus. Get down here."

Well, why don't you just tell the whole neighborhood then? Sighing, I paddle over to the rain gutter where I put my trusty grappling hook, and use it to discreetly lower myself down to the ground. Not so discreet is the woman looking down at me. She knows my secret, of course, but nobody - not even I - knew she did until it was much too late to erase her memory, and besides, it's only between us two right now.

I put my grappling hook away and return to pet mode. "Hey, meat brick," she says teasingly. "I have to show you something."

Confused, I follow her into the house. We travel down a long hallway, multiple flights of stairs, past one of my lair entrances (I was worried she'd come across it), a ladder I didn't even know we had, and into a small, metal, sealed-up box with two items in it: one, an old teddy bear with a single eye falling out, and the other, a well-worn sign that reads _Panic Room_.

There is hardly enough room for Candace to stand. She closes the lid, shutting off all light, the memory of the teddy bear still lingering in my mind setting the perfect moodset for whatever's going to come next. I place my fedora atop my head and sit upright, eyes wide open and senses alert.

"I didn't even realize I was doing it," Candace began, though I couldn't see her. "But it's usually pitch black down here, ever since the lightbulb blew out. But now, look."

Slowly but surely, her face comes into view. Then each of her hands, then the rest of her body I realize is glowing a soft, pale white light.

Transfixed by the glow, I can feel my pupils shrinking and adjusting. I point to her skeptically and let out a small chatter.

"Yep, this is my thing," she says, noticing how she fit in with everyone else and their new powers. "I have light. Useless, huh?"

That wasn't the reaction I was expecting. I cross my arms and shake my head. Surely it can be used for something, it has to be.

"Well, whatever. I can't find any use for it, except if there's a power outage and then I'd only be able to do it at night.

"Anyway, yeah, you know what happened earlier? How Phineas is gone?" I nod. "Well, yesterday shortly after you and Vanessa left he had went out to get the mail. When he came back, one of them was open. I got a look at it later, and you know what it said? It was an invitation from Doofenshmirtz, of all people. He wants to see Phineas."

If Candace didn't have my attention before, she does now. What on this planet could my nemesis possibly want with my owner, after all this time? "Naturally I just expected him to throw it away," Candace continues, "But when he disappeared this morning leaving a note Ferb said was fake, I knew what was going on and I didn't like it. My first reaction was to come down here, and after a while I remembered there wasn't _supposed_ to be any light. I was making it."

...Okay, I follow. But I can't help but wonder why she chose me, of anyone, to tell about it first. "Figured I'd tell you because it was either you or Vanessa, and of the two of you, you're the one who I know won't tell anybody," she adds as if reading my mind. "I mean, I'd rather show them all myself."

I nod again. Now we know there are five people with powers, and Phineas is at Doofenshmirtz's. This can only be trouble.

Without warning, I stand up. I grab hold of Candace's wrist with my left hand, and snap my fingers with my right. She seems awed that I even have fingers with which to snap, and doesn't get the message. So I repeat the gesture, sending her a hurried glare until she gets it and turns the light off.

I push the top off the box and allow her to follow me out. We have some work to do.

* * *

Vanessa's POV

"What do you mean, he's gone?"

My heart starts to beat a little faster, mainly in worry for my brother. "Where could he be?"

The sigh on the other end tells me that is the question on everyone's mind. I repeat the sound with a sigh of my own, this one in thought. "And he didn't even leave a note or something?"

The line is silent for a second. Then, "Come over."

Ferb hangs up. I look down, knowing there's nothing better to do. With everything that's been happening recently, if I'm needed, you can bet I'm going to be there. I grab my keys.

A quick "Going out, Mom," and about twenty minutes later, and I'm at the house. My first thought is to enter the front door, but then I remember how much of an open door the backyard gate is. I look in carefully and see Ferb and Isabella under the tree, the latter sipping from a soccer ball-sized drop of water resting in her hands, looking as if she'd rather be in bed with the blankets around her and a box of tissues to the side.

Isabella drops the water ball slightly and uses one hand to point over in my direction. "You made it," she says, weakly but as enthusiastically as ever.

Ferb turns around to face me, then quickly hops over to the gate and invites me in. He returns to Isabella's side and beckons me over; I join the two on the grass.

"So what's going on?" I ask, "Firstly, Isabella, are you feeling okay?"

"That's not important," determines the teen suddenly; it wasn't rude, but I was surprised at her insistence to put the situation before her health. "I don't think salmonella is contagious."

Salmonella? What is she doing out here? "Oh, my gosh," I start, "You need to be home, ASAP."

"Really, it isn't important," she repeats. "What we need to do is figure out where Phineas is. Look at this."

She hands me a folded-up note - Phineas's handwriting, lying tone and ink smudges. Let's just say I learned a bit from Perry over the years. "This doesn't help much," I say, stating the obvious.

"No kidding," Isabella agrees. "Ferb said he showed it to Perry and Candace, and neither of them seem to have any idea what to make of it." A cloud passes over the sun, causing a shadow to befall the three of us. It does not get brighter. "Actually, your sister just ran into the house and disappeared, that's how much she's willing to help."

"She would," I mutter. Whether they hear or not, I don't know, for neither of them give a reaction. "Where are they now, anyway?"

"Should be still inside," Isabella answers. She reaches up to smooth out her hair, which is visibly frayed at the ends and sticks out in places in her braid. "We can look if you want, but if either of them know exactly where Phineas is..." She thought of a way to finish that sentence. "...I'll eat my bow."

At that moment, Candace burst out the sliding glass door, a disguised Perry following hurriedly after her. "Guys, you're not going to believe this," starts she. "I know exactly where Phineas is!"

All heads turn to Isabella. "Well, I'm a woman of my word," she grudgingly declares. She picks around the back of her head, looping her braid out of the piece of pink fabric. Ferb leans over and places a terminating hand lightly on her shoulder, his eyelids lowered, and she realizes gratefully that she is excused from the act. She's sick enough as it is!

I stand up. "Spill, then."

She gives each of us a long, hard look. We can all see the 'D' forming on her lips, hoping the next twelve letters were not the ones we were thinking of. And she doesn't say them; she grimaces instead, then looks down as if ashamed she couldn't bring herself to say it. We all know anyway.

"Really," I say, a bit unbelieving. "That's... Unfortunate."

"Y-Yeah," confirms Candace. "Let's get the gang together and see if we can't get over there."

"Actually, I'm not sure. Large numbers will attract too much attention. We need someone small, who can get there easily and in a way they won't see coming." I think for a moment about our options. "And someone who Phineas trusts well enough that can talk some sense into him."

To my chagrin, Ferb immediately raises a hand to volunteer. "I fit that last," he declares.

"And I'm sure Gretchen wouldn't mind joining you," offers Isabella.

"Call her now," I demand of the teen. "We move as soon as she's ready."

The shadow from before has not left; in fact, it is getting darker. Candace notices it first. "Hey, Ness? I think you're... You've got some... Uh..."

It doesn't take long for everyone's attention to be on me. "W-What-" I raise my hands, and around them are small black specks floating about the air; a series of similar ones surround my face. "Whoa. Do you know what this means, everyone?"

No one answers; they just stare at me, shocked. Even Perry brings his eyes into focus to see what is happening.

I collect the specks in front of my face, molding them somehow into a miniature ball. "There's more of us," I explain, looking to Ferb and Isabella; "I have darkness."


	8. The Convoluted Reason

_**Made it! Yaaay**_

 **Ahem. Sorry for the somewhat late chapter, even though it's still Wednesday where I live; I can explain. See, for this one I had decided to write such a brilliant, well-written, well-thought-out, funny, descriptive, actiony, twisty, cliffhanger-y, awesome chapter because I love you all so much, and it took a while to type it all out.**

 **Then, my silly computer crashed and I lost it. T.T So have this instead!**

 **Also! Just as a warning, there will be no chapter next week. Sorry. I'm going on vacation, so writing kinda won't be an option. Thankfully, I think this'll hold you over for long enough.**

 **Review Responses!**

 **Dreadwing216: Two for two, nice! Thanks, I will try as always.**

 **MagicQuill42: Wow, what a long and thought-out review. It took like an hour to get through the whole thing! I didn't know there was so much one could say about my story! Aha, I'm being sarcastic. Let's see if this chapter is also meap-worthy.**

 **Devon McDoodle: I'm thinking she does have some control over liquid and solid water, but extra practice would be needed to move vapor and do some of the more advanced things. And no, I'm not morbid enough.**

 **Rainbowleaf9987: Right? Candace and Vanessa were some of the obvious choices, even though light and darkness aren't quite tangible. I've never gotten _that_ sick before either, so there's a bit of a lack of experience there on my part, but I just couldn't resist. This whole story is based reeaally loosely off AYA, namely What Might Have Been, so adding that part just seems right to me. :3 Interesting, haven't really thought about that... So Phineas would be Flareon, Ferb would be Leafeon, Isabella would be Vaporeon(/Glaceon?), Vanessa would be Umbreon, and who has Espeon, Candace? I feel like Sylveon would work better there. Also, poor Gretchen doesn't have one. Eh, she can have Eevee as a consolation prize.**

* * *

Ferb's POV

It does not take long for the rest of the gang to show up. And by that, naturally, I mean Gretchen. Baljeet, Ginger, and Irving called earlier saying they had been caught up, the latter emitting fanboy squeals at frequencies I didn't know were humanly possible.

"Gretchen!" Isabella calls, unwell but happy to see her friend. "Hey, whatcha doin'?"

"Resisting the surprisingly strong urge to do a 'Let it Go' parody," she replies casually.

"Same here," agrees the other girl with a laugh. "But hey, seriously, listen. Has anyone else noticed how strange Phineas has been acting recently?"

Nods from everyone, including myself.

"Yeah, and get this. He disappeared this morning leaving a note our top analysts - Ferb-" she jabs a finger in my direction and I grin slightly, briefly, proudly. "...Have found out isn't true anyway. But we think we know where he went."

Candace stammers out our findings. "And the name starts with a 'Doof'."

Gretchen stares, mouth slightly open, processing this. She closes it after a second and nods in the beginning of understanding.

"Oh, one more thing," Vanessa adds, shaking her hands as if to dry them off. She preforms the trick with the darkness again, and Gretchen's eyes go wide. Wider, anyway; they are still rather small. Vanessa repeats, "I have darkness."

"Woah, that's so cool," Gretchen states, bewildered; she then receives five looks expressing the same emotion. "Oh, uh, I mean, that is a very impressive feat at which I would fail should I attempt it."

She blinks, embarrassed. "Don't tell Baljeet."

"You got it," promises Isabella.

Candace interjects. "What? Is Vanessa going to get all the attention?" Everyone else's faces portray that none of us know what she means. "Look, I've got something, too!"

Before I know what's happening, I realise my hand has flown up to protect my eyes from a blinding light; I am the first to adjust and lower my hand, looking to make out its source.

It's my sister, my other sister, Candace. out of her hands emanate various beams of light, each radiant, all crisp, blank, empty, white. When she notices everyone's reactions, she pulls her hands back slightly, in an attempt to dim it. It works, for about a second, before flickering off. "Soo... Yeah," she concludes. "There is no way I'm ever going to be able to use this."

Vanessa looks to her in the most shock of all of us. "I-I don't think so," she objects, mostly in defense of her own ability. Neither involves anything tangible, unlike those of Isabella and I. At least Phineas and Gretchen control gaseous matter, instead of simply a form of energy. "Imagine all the things you can do now. You'll never have to light a candle in a blackout again."

"Yeah, that's about all that will ever happen," argues Candace.

"Well..." Vanessa thinks a moment. "You could probably blind anyone who's annoying you." She gestures to me. "Watch out, Ferb."

I bring my hands up again, and a rock about the size of my nose flies up with them to cover my eyes should Candace attempt to do so. While shielded, I do cringe a moment at her acknowledgement of me; the statement almost showed how she still considered me infantile, too young and unprepared to take care of myself. I suppose that's natural - she is my older sister, after all - but the memories of similar feelings and the offense I would take at them are enough to briefly haunt me. "Oh, you look like you're good. Never mind."

So it wasn't her looking down on me at all. What was it, then? Could that have been concern? I believe I may be reading too much into this.

Isabella, who had been watching the whole time, finally speaks up again. "Okay, so, can we please get back on topic?" She asked, nearly demanded.

I lower the rock, realising I hadn't yet, and the others allow her to continue. "We need to get over there, and we don't even know-" she then remembers whom she is addressing; "-Vanessa, does your dad still live in that building? You know, the one that looks like Ferb?"

A shadow crosses her face, as if covering a blush, though I cannot tell whether she put it there or not. She nods and informs, "Yeah, I just saw him yesterday," with a tiny eye flicker towards Perry.

"Great," Isabella coughs, "Gretchen, we want you and Ferb to go over there first, since they can't predict it if - you know, if you fly over there." She lets out a bit of a groan and leans even more heavily against the tree.

Gretchen eyeballs me for a few seconds. "Fine," she agrees, "But what assurance have we that they are not composing something more elaborate than we know how to handle? Are we just... Going in blind, then?"

Isabella smiles. "No, not anymore, now that we know what Candace and Vanessa are capable of." She points at my sisters. "If you can somehow manipulate the amount of light in the area, is it possible to turn yourselves of others invisible?"

Oh, I know about this one. Normally, Phineas would be the one to answer this question, but now that he's not here, I am forced to speak up. "Candace can. Vanessa can't."

Inevitably, people look to me for an explanation. I in turn look to my left, out of pure habit, knowing the person better suited for that would not be standing there but subconsciously expecting him to be anyway. "Candace can bend light, which allows for invisibility," I explain with what someone looking ridiculously closely would call a sigh. "Vanessa, however, controls darkness, which is a lack of light altogether."

Gretchen nods in understanding. "Should Vanessa try to get us into the building undetected, the most effective action it is possible for her to take involving her powers would be to envelop us in a large, black blob, which is immeasurably more prone to gaining attention than five people and a platypus walking down the street."

Isabella, Vanessa, and I each give her a bit of a stern look for suggesting Perry to become involved in front of Candace. However, the redhead does not react to this proposition at all, even after the monotreme lets out an alarmed chatter, so we all quietly agree to let Gretchen off scot-free just this once.

Instead, Candace chooses to think about her new role. "Well..." She begins, "I guess if that means I can use this for something..."

* * *

Phineas's POV

Dad - ahem, Doofenshmirtz - is much more accommodating than I would think. I guess four years have given me enough time to mentally exaggerate everything he has done or failed to do to me. I sit upright in a regular old armchair in his living room, the doctor currently in the kitchen and Norm - make that Norman - apparently watching the baseball game on his small TV. I itch to get behind it, play with the wires, make it bigger, add a 'D' or two to the normal 2D box.

"Okay, let's get some things straight," the scientist mutters, moving around the couch on the opposite side of Norman, carrying a tray full of small handled cups and a teapot. "I'm sure you want to know why I asked you to come here, huh?"

He places the pot on the coffee table and begins to pour us each a cup. "I-I'm sorry, is that tea?" I wonder, not shielding my curiosity. He did not strike me as a tea person.

"Yeah," he replies, "Why, is that weird?"

"No, I just thought-"

"You think it's weird. I know, I'm pretty bad at this whole being evil thing."

I look down, processing that. "Going back to your old ways, then?" I ask, ignoring the lack of understanding I have for how tea has anything to do with evilness. Norman gestures for a cup, but receives only a cuing glare from Doofenshmirtz. He leaves the room silently.

"What do you mean?" Doof inquires, turning back to me. "Oh, Vanessa must have told you what happened after I became a high school teacher." I nod. "Yeah... I guess she didn't tell you that I didn't ever... Actually, you know... Quit. Here, take a cup, it's going to get cold."

I doubt that. It's still steaming, and the outside of the glass is warm to the touch. "Uh, thanks," I say anyway, and take a sip for his sake. You know who would enjoy this? Ferb. If he could see me now...

I look into the steam and see faintly the image of his face. I have to remember what I'm doing; he would not want me here.

I shove away the thought. I cringe, take another sip, and continue, "What was that you were saying?"

"Oh - right. Evil; always was, always will be."

 _That's alarming,_ is my first thought. "Alright, define evil."

He smiles a bit. "Well, in a word, life."

"Heh, yeah, that doesn't help," I remark. "But really, why did you want me here?"

"Well, firstly, I wanted to see if one of my plans was working."

A somewhat awkward silence befalls us. "Which one?" I wonder aloud, in an attempt to break it.

He does not answer; instead, he repeats himself, bellowing, "I said, _I wanted to see if one of my plans was working!_ "

"Oh, right!" Comes the faint voice of Norman. Immediately afterwards, I hear a sound I recognize as the cutting of wires; a crackling, a sizzling sound. Then, every light and electrical device on the floor goes off.

Groans from the floors below us signify that the same had happened throughout the entire building. There is not a lot of time to dwell on that, however, as right when the lights go out I find myself almost involuntarily creating two bright flames on either side of my head to compensate for the darkness.

Doofenshmirtz had turned his back to me, shouting something demeaning to Norman. Once he notices the extra light, however, his scolding ceases and he begins to slowly move back around to see what I have done. His smile is genuine and excited, but lit sinisterly.

Not willing to see this man's face through the flames, and a bit scared at what he will make of this ability I suddenly have, I quickly shut them off. "Hey, no, turn those back on again!" Commands the scientist.

Unsure of what my other options are (excluding sit in the dark and be totally susceptible to whatever Doofenshmirtz happens to be planning to do with-slash-to me), I hesitantly comply.

It looks as though he is going to explode out of excitement. "It is!" He cries, "It's working!"

Norman calls from the darkness, "Congratulations!" _Slam!_ "I'm okay!"

"Wait, you know about this?" I probe; if anything, this guy owes me at least some answers.

"Of course, I'm the one who gave you the-" Doofenshmirtz stops himself. "Here, have some more tea."

Eyebrows kitted together in a mixture of curiosity and confusion, I pour some more into my glass and sit back a bit. This must be one of his famous monologues Perry always complains about.

What? He's perfectly capable of writing.

Shoot... Perfectly... Ugh. I cringe.

"I guess we should start from the beginning. From your birth." Of course, it was going to be about this. Why I ever suspected it might not be is beyond me.

"Fifteen years, five months, and twenty days ago - New Year's Day. My, it was exciting, the day my plans to make someone perfect finally came to fruition... Tell me, kiddo, have you ever thought about why I even bothered to create you?"

I shake my head and stammer, "N-No, not really. I'm-m just happy to be alive."

"Well." He takes another sip. "The reason is this thing called failure. It... pretty much defines my life. Failure - to be loved by my parents, to be better than Roger at anything, to thwart my nemesis, to take over the Tri-State Area. What I needed was something or someone who was totally _incapable_ of failure. Someone that was, how you say, perfect."

I nod slowly in understanding. His plan the whole time was to use me for evil... Gah, I should have seen it sooner. Does naïvety come with perfection?

"Of course, it would have been nice if your sister had fit the bill, but that just goes to show you how prone I am to failure, I guess. And that wasn't the only complication, either. You remember that little girl from Mexico, right?"

Oh... Boy. Please let him be talking about Gretch-

"Her name was Isealia, if I remember right."

Darnity darn.

"Her being created at the same time as you really made life harder for me, since it was just another thing we had to prepare for, and it added to the attention we were getting. Plus, it made it possible that should anything bad happen at the test, I would never get to see you again. Clearly, I had ways to compensate for that, seeing as we're still here right now, talking. It's just that with the competition with Mexico leading to a massive tie-in of the experiment with the U.S. government, they decided to send out groups of secret agents to protect your sister and you, to kinda make sure you get used to life within these... Conditions we've set up for you.

"Ferb was the leader of yours; Vanessa was the leader of your sister's. I had no idea she was my daughter at the time. Even that platypus of yours - I'm not sure if you know this, but he works for there too. He's my nemesis."

Doofenshmirtz crosses his arms proudly. What he probably doesn't know is that now that he said that, now that the security cameras installed here by OWCA discovered I know Perry's secret, he will have to move away; my heart rate triples for a second before I realize Norman cut the power and any camera installed here would have had to have been disabled. With a bit of a slouch, I take another sip.

Doof pours himself another cup as well, commenting, "Yeah, this stuff is good, right? Vanessa introduced it to me. She's been really into British stuff lately."

"Back on topic," I demand, nothing tense about the volume of my voice but everything tense about the tone.

"Right. So about the time your sister was born, the secret agent organization - it's called OWCA, but I can't for the life of me remember what that stands for - has been experimenting with a certain type of serum."

The last word lingers for longer than it should. My blood runs cold as I suddenly sit upright, my right hand coming up to trace the right side of the base of my neck.

Doof doesn't appear to notice. "What it does is it locates the most dominant of a number of traits a person can have, identifies a part of our natural physical environment with which it corresponds, and gives the person free reign over that thing." He smiles and gestures to my flames. "Looks like yours is fire."

My mouth hangs open a bit. "S-S-So that's-that's what you meant by-"

"-By 'improvements', yes," Dad confirms. "The serum I gave you five years ago that was supposed to erase your memory was a much-improved version of that very serum. It was developed by OWCA, although I think the Mexican government was trying to make their own of that as well. I know that Ferb kid got it, as did Vanessa, but that was when they were much, much younger. Even Perry the Platypus got it upon his initiation to the O.W.C.A."

...Perry? Oh, goodness, does that mean he might have a power too?

"By the time you and Isealia were born, I had heard about it and decided in light of the upcoming competition that I needed to give it to you. Naturally, evil genius that I am, stealing it was easy. My first test of the bit I made off with was on Cansummace, but after a few weeks of no change I decided it was too risky to use it on you just yet. So I set it aside for a few years, knowing that when the time came I would make the necessary adjustments.

"That time was the day of the test. That... Debacle really showed me that my fears were real - what? I'm overprotective, get over it! - and I knew I had to get on it. But there were some things I had to add on, such as the amnesia part that apparently didn't work."

"Photographic memory, what can I say?" I explain, almost chuckling lightly.

"Yeah. Kind of got that, thanks. But since you _were_ going up against that Mexican girl in a competition, I realized it wouldn't be enough to give you the power; it was totally possible that they gave her the same serum, and it'd be evenly matched. So to give us the edge, I took a bit of the DNA from Isealia, inserted it in the serum, and programmed it so that once your powers came out, you would start to absolutely detest her."

I begin to wonder if there is a part of my face that isn't being swallowed by the sheer size of my eyes. "So, wait, I-I don't actually... _Really_ hate her then?" My heart is pounding louder than it probably should be. I know that I likely just revealed something I shouldn't have but I don't care. If this is why I feel so weird about Isabella - if this is the reason my face turns red in rage at the mention of her name - if my possibly overprotective feelings about her are the only things that keep me from wanting to cause her harm so badly-

Dad bites his lip. "Well, yes, you do, I'm just telling you why."

I place my tea on the table and stand up, feeling the flames to my sides grow in size and temperature. My voice is shaky. "Why - you - I'll-"

"Sit back down," Doof commands. I don't know why, but I feel so compelled to do so, and ultimately give in. "Good, I wasn't finished yet. See, I also put in a little bit of _my_ DNA. But I made it so that you'd be absolutely dedicated and obliged to help me in my plans, because I made you too good to do that if you knew I was evil."

I practically suck all the saliva from my mouth in order to gulp as hardly as I do. I try to breathe correctly, but I don't know if it's going to happen.

"Sorry, I know it's a little tough to get used to," tries to reason Dad. Woah, wait! Did I just call him 'Dad'? How long have I been doing that without thinking about it!? "...But you really have no choice. You're my son, I made you for this, and now it's finally time. I've been faking incompetence for far too long! Now that you have your powers, you're going to help me take over the Tri-State Area. After all I've done for you, I think this is fair payment."

"N-N-" No, of course not! I would never just betray everything I've learned to be good and just, I wouldn't go against my friends, my brother, my sort-of-almost-it's-complicated-girlfriend!

Well... I kind of did already, just by coming here... And Dad has a point, he worked pretty hard to raise me right...

"Uh - I-I guess you're right..." I concede. How is it that that thing he did actually _worked?_

"Good," Dad agrees, placing his tea on the table. "Now, let's see if we can't-"

"Wait," I interrupt, "One last thing. How... How did you know I was still alive and when my powers started to show up?"

"Easy. Norman was at that party a couple days ago. He only turned human about two years ago, far after I had accidentally released the effects of the Oblivious-Inator on the whole Tri-State Area. That was why no one except Norman before now has ever saw through your obvious disguises, _Phineas._ " He spat the last word, making me feel entirely ashamed at the name I had come to love so much.

I clamp my hands into fists, then release the tension, then repeat. "Actually, it's..." I correct, hardly believing what I was saying. "It's Perfeneas now."


	9. The Hidden Power

**Agh... I knew this would happen. Sorry everyone for the late update, it's just, life, school, you know, all the same excuses I've always used. ^^' Hey, at least I got it up before the next deadline, give me that at least!**

 **Also, I'm really starting to think that Misspent is almost over. There are going to be a few more chapters, yes (and I'm _planning_ an epilogue... Not making promises though), I'm just saying now because the last chapter of the first book was so sudden, the end is currently on the horizon.**

 **...Ah, I just love the name of this chapter. :)**

 **Review Responses!**

 **Dreadwing216: That's what it looks like, doesn't it? Now, what do you think that could indicate?**

 **MagicQuill42: Why? We just had a whole chapter devoted to why! :P Anyway, the reason is, in a word, plot.**

 **Guest: I know I had fun with it. Sadly, there are currently no Let it Go parodies in the works here, but who knows, anything's possible. Thanks, and I will try!**

 **Jet Engine: Oh, dear, I'm sorry to hear that, but I was kind of hoping for that reaction. Heh, I can see that, actually - after all, everyone in this town is a tad strange...**

 **Rainbowleaf9987: Hm, looks like I need to break out the Typo Find-Inator. In the meantime, I suppose Gretchen can get Sylveon (until they make a Flying Eeveelution, that is - it has to happen!), Isabella can keep Glaceon, and Candace can get Espeon? It kind of makes sense. Also, I realize a lot of news has leaked between your review and this update, so it might be obvious but while I'm personally looking forward to Pokémon Go!, it's possible they have a Z version in mind. But then which Mega Stones would they give... Unless... Mega Charizard and Mewtwo Z? That would be awesome! I'd take the remade Yellow though, but that would mean _another_ Kanto - R/B/Y, G/S, FR/LG, HG/SS, then whatever they'd call the new one.**

 **Anyone who understood everything in that paragraph gets a free e-high-five from me!**

 **Galaxina-the-Seedrian: I'll take those rants. :3 No, Perry is not a Pokémon, but if he was I'd say he would have to be part Water-Type, if anything. Hah, isn't it just? Darnity darn... I've actually never cursed in my life (true story), so coming up with less profane ways to verbally express frustration can lead to some amusing phrases.**

* * *

Gretchen's POV:

There exists a vast multitude of words in my English vocabulary, but when describing volitance, there is only one that stands out above the rest, in this case almost literally: _exhilaration._

Even more exhilarating than the fact that I finally introduced my point of view correctly is this feeling of weightlessness I have the honor of experiencing, the sensation of the wind whipping past every square inch of the surface of my body, of the sleeves of the hoodie I tied around my waist in signature flapping against my legs and sides unhindered by the tiny piece of fabric that was my shorts, which never succeeded in being visible from behind due to said hoodie's sheer length, of the jangles of my star-shaped necklace and bracelets moving about as if possessed by some unseen force to dance around my neck and wrist with respect to their location and tickle those areas of my body even more than the wind, the air, the drops, the dives, the spins, the freedom tickles my heart and mind and spirit.

I have not had a similar experience since the last time I had the immense honor of riding Phineas' and Ferb's Coolest Coaster Ever. That was truly something amazing. So is this.

As I continue to gain altitude, I initiate observations of additional similitudes to a ride of that nature than I would have expected had I never gotten the opportunity to experience free flight. Over the course of this time in which I have possessed it, I have come to develop a sort of habit of periodically increasing and decreasing the distance vertically between myself and the ground at not-quite-cyclic intervals while I also move in one direction otherwise parallel to it. Not to mention the extremely entertaining loops and dives, which I now realize have been the objects that rollercoasters attempt to imitate, not the other way around.

So caught up in my sheer exhilaration am I that for a moment I begin to feel my abdomen catching up with me, then the rest of my body falling, it lagging along behind. I have never been one for being sick (well, excluding conditions on aquatic vehicles, such as boats; simply can't stand them), but at this moment the word exhilaration begins to shyly step away out of the limelight into the corners of my mind, replaced by nausea as the dominant description of my current emotional state of affairs.

From a location behind mine, Ferb, atop a large piece of land severed from the ground, floats towards me faster to close the distance between his previous location relative to my flight pattern and the vertical line down which I discover myself falling. On his small grassy terrain grows a plethora of leaves and vines and grass and leaves and vines and grass and foliage to break my fall.

I land in it with a jolt and a thud. I can feel in the split second that I hit the platform the wind, which I had been so convinced was on my side, a devoted ally, being knocked out of my lungs. With a bit of a grunt, I attempt to force some back into me, with some measure of success; my respiratory system feels a bit overwhelmed for a second, my sinister hand lost all feeling, and I am dizzy, but a cough and a shaky return to my feet later my senses all initiate their functions properly again and I about face to meet Ferb's optical organs.

"Uh, my utmost gratitude," I offer in thanks; he simply returns with a thumbs-up.

My breathing proper again, I place myself at the edge, lay down on my stomach, and gaze precariously out over the ground below. I do not fear falling, but I do recognize the present danger if my powers really are not as controlled as I had anticipated.

"However," I add, not refraining from my overlooking the bustling city from the flying ground, "My blunder was not executed by my own will. I accidentally fell, so I am not certain of the full extent to which I really possess control over my abilities. W-We did just receive them yesterday, after all."

In response, I can feel Ferb's own powers working themselves through the terrain, as another multitude of vines grow out and wrap themselves around my torso, encasing me to the ground like a blanket. This would be more easily appreciated, of course, if I was in a more comfortable position, though Ferb's sentiment is evident: he cares for my safety. I gently smile. Either that, or he is still having the same problem and is empathizing with me. My smile dissipates as I realize what might happen if the latter was true, and I am suddenly aware of how unsteady and wobbly this rock has been and how trapped I am onto it. _Exactly how long would it take,_ I wonder, _to make sure that, in case of an emergency, I can use my own abilities to land safely on the ground at Ferb's potential mistake?_

"That's alright, I can probably handle it," I decide, resulting in Ferb's pulling the vines back into the soil. It's not that I don't have faith in Ferb's abilities, I do trust him; I simply would rather be in a less-confined position in any circumstance. We divert our attention to the sinister purple building ahead. Phineas is currently located inside; the very thought causes my heart to race.

I cautiously step out over to the edge of the piece of land on which we ride. I place one bare foot at the edge, letting my toes curl over the damp dirt, then the other. My thin legs bend slightly, as though I am a diver about to leap off the board, and I can feel my jacket pushing up around me like a cape attached at my waist, and I can feel the cold air brushing past my face and through my bangs and flipping my low minuscule ponytail around as if that of a real horse in a swarm of infested houseflies.

My arms, bent to forty-five degrees each at the elbows, raise so that my shoulders align perpendicularly to my torso, and I jump off the earth. I do not come back down until I am situated upon the evil scientist's balcony, Ferb at my side, my feet complaining against the cold hard metal floor, and my heart rate triple what is considered healthy for a female thirteen-year-old human being such as myself.

* * *

Candace's POV

You ask anyone in my family, and they will not deny that I have a few - problems. I've learned to live with it, though, and for their sake I've calmed down over the past year or so, but of all my screws loose a big one of them has been the need for attention. It's always been my little brother this, Phineas and Ferb that, did you hear Vanessa got accepted into the best college in the Tri-State Area? Oh, yeah, and that Candace girl. Wonder why she isn't in Crazy Person Jail yet. Even Perry, my _little brothers' pet,_ is recognized by the US government as probably one of the most kick-butt secret agents out there, and what do I have on that?

But now that - all this - is happening and Phineas could be in potential danger, I've been granted the only power the rest of us have that could let us get in okay, to save him.

I just don't get what we're even doing. Phineas went in by his own will to Doofenshmirtz's apartment, and as alarming as that is, does it really necessitate a full-scale break-in to rescue him from his own voluntary choice? What if he doesn't want to come back with us? Doofenshmirtz could be doing anything to him by now!

But, far be it from me to let up such a chance to make myself a useful part of the team, even if its unofficial leader is a fifteen-year-old with a glorified head cold. For once, all eyes (even Perry's!) are on me as I play with the colors of the visible spectrum. They seem to be at least somewhat triggered by emotions, which is a bit annoying to deal with - oh, look, there's some more orange - and so far I've only been able to get the warm colors. Their cool complements don't seem to be coming out right.

Vanessa notices the amount of frustration-signaling orange I inadvertently created in the space in front of me, and tries to calm me down. "Hey, don't go so hard. On yourself, that is. I certainly couldn't do that."

Something about her tone and syntax seems very familiar to me, as if she was trying to imitate someone I know; I just can't place it. "Thanks," I mutter, and suddenly notice traces of green pop up. Would that be gratitude, or was it just a breakthrough caused by the limitless power of friendship?

Eh, the answer is irrelevant. I get an idea, and begin orchestrating each of the color groups I was able to concoct into a certain order: that of the infamous Roy G. Biv.

Biv is still having problems (the colors were somewhat there, but were pretty transparent and were mostly white), but apart from that my first rainbow is looking pretty decent. I hold it out for a bit longer, focusing more on the purples and blues, and move it over to one side of the yard; with great flourish, I move both my hands above my head and back down to the other side again, the light following and extending to become what one would picture a stereotypical rainbow to look like.

"Woah, Candace, that's-that's beautiful!" Isabella compliments, and even Vanessa gives a half-approving nod of the head. As close as we are as sisters, she has never been overly colorful; in fact, she only started wearing a red blouse a couple years ago for her eighteenth, her current last wardrobe change. The skirt and boots - both long as ever - still remain her signature black.

"You know, I think I'm ready to try it," I decide, referring to the process of turning myself or someone else invisible. Perry walks up to my leg, chattering as if to volunteer. "Ready, Perry?"

The platypus blinks dumbly. I close my eyes, harnessing my focus on him, imagining the grass behind him; my eyes open and I look into those of the Giant Floating Baby Head.

"Uh, I don't think that's what it's supposed to look like," informs Vanessa slowly. "Try again."

I comply, and this time Perry becomes Klimpaloon. Another attempt yields a Terra Cotta warrior; another, a red-cheeked yellow rodent of some kind, then a howling coyote, an image of Perry standing up on two legs a la his secret agent mode, a man in a grilled cheese sandwich suit, an empty space, a potted plant in a fedora, that creepy zebra that keeps calling me Kevin-

"Wait!" Isabella commands me to stop. "Go back two!"

I go back two. "Great," the girl coughs, "You did it."

The space in front of me chatters, signifying Perry's approval. I let the light flicker back to normal, keeping it in its straight path before bouncing off of the platypus. "Now, can you do it to yourself is the question," challenges Vanessa.

Hm... This will be harder. I can try repelling-

Isabella interrupts my train of thoughts. "Oh, sweet. That was quick." Looking down I see she is right; I can't even see my own hand when I hold it in front of my face.

Experimentally, I close my eyes to see if I can't make the lids invisible - _that_ would be a useful talent. However, seeing as there is no light underneath them to bend around them, this proves impossible.

Well, maybe not if Phineas was here. He laughs in the face of impossible. Always has.

I open my eyes, and see that I am visible again. "Well, that was easier than expected," I admit. "So, what now? Are we waiting to hear from Ferb and Gretchen, or what?"

"A signal would be nice, yes," Vanessa agrees, "But we have to expect one soon. Those two should ideally be there in about-" she looks down at her wrist, then realized her watch wouldn't provide her with any helpful information - "Soon. In the meantime, what sort of plan do we have?"

Thank goodness, I was afraid we didn't have one there. "Um, we don't have one," Isabella informs. Well, slurp.

"Not officially, I mean. Though it seems pretty simple; Ferb and Gretchen are out spying, and when they give the all-clear we can get over there, find Doofenshmirtz and Phineas, and rescue him." Isabella conjures up a scale model of Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated, made entirely out of water, with crude somewhat-humanoid figures somewhat-clearly resembling members of our group. I find mine somewhat demeaning. "Doofenshmirtz will probably put up a fight though, you know those machines he makes. Ferb and I will focus on Phineas, while Candace, Vanessa and Gretchen hold off Doofenshmirtz. As for the -Inators..."

She trails off, her eyes coming to rest discreetly on Perry. I understand that they don't know I know his secret, so I pretend not to notice. "Sounds good," I agree, reluctantly. I'm still not sure what to expect going in there, and what does Isabella think Vanessa and I could do against our own father? We don't have anything fancy, and nothing capable of physically 'holding off' someone. But as much as Phineas means to Isabella, and how much of a natural leader I have to admit she is, I accept that whatever she says is better than what I have to offer.

As if on cue, Vanessa's watch beeps and from it is projected a holographic image of Gretchen. "We have successfully made it to the apartment," the blue projection reports. "Ferb is presently observing the area to detect its safety and discover Phineas's location. There has been no sign of either of them yet, but we are on the lookout, so consider this an invitation to join us here when you're ready."

"Aye aye," Vanessa returns, "We'll see you soon then."

Gretchen seems out of it for a moment. "With any luck," agrees she.

* * *

Perry's POV

Oh, complications. I've always had to live with them. I want to hang out with Phineas and Ferb all day? Nope, gotta fight crime. Want to ride the cool new rollercoaster all the kids are talking about? Sorry, much too short. Want to go see _The Duchess Approves_ in theaters on opening night? Well, here's a thought, I'm a _platypus._

But part of being a secret agent is handling complications, and as a platypus that's good at his job, I can confidently say that I have the situation under control. Yes, it is a complication that Candace cannot be seen knowing my secret identity, but we have not been revealed yet, so why should today be different?

The eighteen-going-on-nineteen-year-old took extra care to make and keep me invisible as we approached the Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated building, keeping me hidden from the others the whole time whereas they only were once we got here. I had been instructed by Vanessa and Isabella to wait at the house until Candace was out of the way, then follow discreetly after, but I like this plan better.

Once we get there, we are crestfallen to find that, once again, the elevator is out of order. In fact, it looks like every electrical appliance in the building is out.

"Oh, what bologna!" Candace whisper-spits in disappointment, "It's _never_ working!"

"No, it normally runs pretty well, considering Dad," informs Vanessa; Candace's face in response to this statement can only be described as indescribable. Mostly because none of us could see it, it being invisible, but the edge in her voice shows how she feels relatively clearly.

"Well, I always end up having to take the stairs," she admits. "Come on, they're this way. Let's go."

Candace does not seem to realize that no one can see her, and that she cannot see any of us. I feel the toe of her ballet flat shove itself into my side as she trips over me, and the startle she gets from her collision with the ground causes her to lose focus on the light bent around us; we become visible again. Once Isabella and Vanessa see me - in pet mode, mind you, for security reasons - they begin to pelt us (though mostly Candace) with shocked and near-silent inquiries.

"Perry, what are you doing here?"

"Why were you invisible? Candace, did you bring Perry?"

"Uh, I didn't see hi-"

"Really? Because we didn't see him either."

"W-Why would he just follow us here?"

"I don't know, he always leaves the house at some point, maybe he-"

A little fed up with the banter, I do not hold back a warning chirp, and the women fall to silence (other than the faint sounds of involuntary swooning the noise earned me, from the three of them and the somewhat distracted lobby attendant alike).

Vanessa's eyes lock into mine briefly, conflict stirring in them. "Yeah, he's right," she agrees, "We should really stay on task. I guess it wouldn't hurt to bring him along..." She raises an arm to scratch nervously and awkwardly behind her head, the chocolate-brown ponytail bobbing up and down as she did.

"Okay. Stairs are this way..." Candace's voice trails off as I make my way towards the elevator. I tune out her instruction, as the only one still technically an agent, not quite needing it; after all this time, I never have fully warmed up to working as part of a team. It might just be my training for OWCA, or the sheer amount of time I spend with Phineas and Ferb (and Doofenshmirtz, to an extent), but I have acquired a certain knack for technology; the mission would go a lot easier if I could fix the machine somehow.

While Candace is clearly distracted, I stand back up and fiddle a bit with the buttons required to call the elevator down. Nothing useful there, so I use the lazer on my 'watch' to cut open the bottom of the door (Doofenshmirtz can replace that) enough for me to crawl into.

I cautiously make my way inside, watching as Candace, Vanessa, and Isabella go invisible again and begin to ascend the stairs. They must think I'm with them, so no use trying to get them over here even if I can get something to work.

It takes some effort to rip off the panel of buttons off the elevator wall. The wires are flat and dead when I snap them apart; no electricity runs through them. It would be easy to rearrange them in such a way that it could work smoothly, that is, if I had a power source.

I rub a paw thoughtfully against the bottom of my bill, the way a human would a chin. Suddenly, I can hear the metal _clank!_ of footsteps running towards me from across the lobby. It's Vanessa and Isabella, Candace following, who must have realized they left me behind - the first two spot my tail rather easily through the hole I made, and warned me about my cover. Candace, however, is able to steal a look at my fedora-wearing form and utter a "Come on!" - not realizing the presence of Vanessa and Isabella - when I become literally floored as a thunderous wave of electricity leaves my paws and causes the elevator doors to slam open and the capsule to rocket itself up to the penthouse.


	10. The Right Path

**Yes, I know this took forever.**

 **Yes, I do have a good excuse.**

 **And yes, it is FanFiction-related.**

 **You see, today is a very special day in MfEO history. (Also Back to the Future Day, but as totally awesome as that is, that's unrelated.) No, today is the anniversary of the day I, the WGPM, have posted the first chapter of the original story in this series, _Made for Each Other._**

 **My, how time flies!**

 **So, to commemorate, I have taken the liberty of not only posting not one, but _two_ last chapters of _Misspent_ here, but ALSO rewriting (you heard me) the entire first book. The whole thing. Exceptforthefirsttwochapterscausethosedon'tneedit. Yep, all 40k+ words.**

 **All that being said, this is the last chapter. The next is the epilogue (as those of you who just mashed the 'latest chapter' button may have seen already. Busted!).**

 **So, one last time...**

 **Review Responses!**

 **MagicQuill42: Will it now? Maybe. But happy ones? Maybe. Sad ones? You know what my answer to that is going to be.**

 **Dreadwing216: Well, maybe this chapter'll help clear that up.**

 **Jet Engine: Two? I counted four, including the title! Casual players may have missed my references to the Holo Caster and the move Thunder Wave - I'm guessing those were the two you missed. I guess I'm just in a Pokemon-y mood lately, but than again... I'm always in a Pokemon-y mood. :3**

 **Anyway, hope you all like it and here's to finishing this series with a bang!**

* * *

Isabella's POV

What happened to Perry probably should not have been a surprise. After all, things usually happen in sevens in fairly tales. Granted, this is no fairy tale, but something about Perry winding up with electricity in his domain makes a little bit of sense to me.

Personally, I was more surprised to see Candace reacting so calmly to seeing him with his hat on. How long has she known he is an agent?

I do not dwell on it for long, however; there are more pressing matters to deal with. Clearly, there is no use trying to take the elevator, so Candace, Vanessa, and I make our way to the stairs. Again.

The pain in my abdomen has only gotten worse since we made it to the building. Especially as we begin climbing; Vanessa turns to me with worry on her face. "Are you okay?" She asks for the umpteenth time, "You look pale."

"No, _you're_ pale!" Candace backs, forcing Vanessa's already fair skin to turn paper-white. "Oh, cool, I can actually do that. Here, see, now you're green."

Indeed, Vanessa was now green. "Okay, very funny; but shouldn't we be invisible right now, Candace? You had one job..." Vanessa laughed lightly at this observation.

"Oh, shoot. Right," the redhead remembers. She tries to do her trick again, but her efforts are interrupted when we find our feet continually stepping up onto nothing but air. "What on Earth?" Candace nearly shouts in alarm. So much for being discreet.

We all instinctively look up. It is incredibly hard to see her clearly, but Vanessa ends up spotting Gretchen at the top of the winding staircase.

My friend probably does not consider the insane amount of nausea I feel as Candace, Vanessa, and I are thrusted up by the air around us to her story of the building.

She expertly places the three of us on the floor. My legs immediately go weak, and I use the banister to hold myself up with one hand, holding in some bubbling stomach fluids with the other. My eyes water uncontrollably as I force it back down long enough to mutter weakly, "Gretchen. Sal-monella."

"Oh! Jinkies, Isabella, I'm so sorry!" She whispers in alarm, "Are you-"

I use the hand I am not placing all of my weight on to throw a pint of water onto her face, shutting her up quickly; if I hear that question one more time I might lose it. "Alright then," Gretchen determines, directing a small air current through her hair to dry it out.

My eyes clamp shut again, more briefly this time. A few unsatisfying coughs and I'm back up on my feet, rubbing the space underneath my eyes to smooth out the inevitable bags. "I'm just fine," I pronounce. Only then do I notice Perry and Ferb standing there as well, their entire miens filled with concern. "Candace," I add, "Politely, why are you not freaking out right now? You know, about Perry?"

"Oh, um... I've actually known about - that - for a long time now," explains she. "Almost as long as you have, in fact."

Gretchen, Vanessa, and I look to her strangely. "I know, it's just... We needed to keep it a secret. Security reasons, you know?" Candace leans down and gives the platypus a pat on the head, which he clearly finds demeaning. Yes, demeaned is the word I would use to describe his face.

We all nod, proving to her that all of us know his secret as well. "So, now that we're all ready, can you - uh, Candace..?"

"Yes," is her response to my instruction. One at a time, I watch as she, Vanessa, Gretchen, Ferb, and Perry disappear before my eyes. Confused, I question why I still remain visible.

"Obviously. You're Phineas's weakness! You need to be the one to talk to him first." Candace's whisper rings through the tangible silence.

"Then why did Ferb-" I pause. Clearly he did something worth the time here, even if I do not know what it is yet. "Never mind. Okay, I'm going in."

Perry (I'm guessing) jumps up and kicks down the door. I valiantly step in...

...Then immediately return to the hallway. "Never mind, I'm going out!" I explain, leaning up against the railing, "I can't do this!"

The invisible people in my vicinity remain silent for fear of being discovered. I do, however, hear a series of sighs indicating their disappointment.

"Of course you can," urges Gretchen after a while, "You just gotta jump right to it."

"Yeah, come on," Candace agrees, "Phineas is in there. He needs you."

I feel a hand on my shoulder, which I assume is Ferb's. A sigh escapes me, then a small bout of coughing. When nothing satisfying comes up, I grit my teeth a little and lift myself off the floor.

 _No going back now,_ I remind myself. _Carpe Diem! What was the very thing that Phineas wanted to teach everyone?_

I make my way into the room; apparently, Perry's outburst of electricity into the elevator before had began to return power to the whole building. Fortunately, Doofenshmirtz is nowhere in sight.

Unfortunately, Phineas is.

His blank, unconcerned stare somehow makes me wonder if this is the same Phineas that left us all earlier. His all-white clothing blatantly suggests he isn't, at all.

I can feel his gaze boring into my pale face, searching my pores for the inevitable imperfection I can't believe he never noticed before. I swallow some combination of saliva and leftover stomach acids. The taste in my mouth burns away at it from the inside, exactly what Phineas is doing to my heart.

Somehow he must sense on my face the effect he's having. He looks down for a moment. When our eyes meet again, for a second I can almost see the Phineas I fell in-to this situation with. Then he disappears.

My breath faltering, the two of us take a few tentative steps towards each other as if there was a magnetic attraction pulling us closer. We are about twenty feet away from each other when we both know to stop. The conversation we have with our eyes is the meaning of painful.

After a while, Phineas opens his mouth.

 _I know you must be worried about this.  
It's in your nature; 'course, I was the same.  
Those were the days I was Perfeneas;  
And now, that spark has lit another flame._

I recognize the format instantly. The rhyme scheme. The iambic pentameter. The syllables. Everything is exactly the way it was five years ago.

The weight in my stomach is unforgiving. My voice is nearly silent as the words just start tumbling out.

 _I hope you know it's not too late to mend  
All that we had if you'd just hear my plea.  
Do you realize how greatly you'd misspend  
_ _The time we have in which we're truly free?_

His answer is succinct: _This was my father's whole plan all along._

I reply desperately. _Well, did he ever plan to face the war?_

 _Well, that was just some bad news to prolong,_ he counters,  
 _The one thing he lived this long searching for._

I can't believe this. Doofenshmirtz turned him into a... A... I don't even know! I respond in the only way I can think to.

 _I love you, Phin, but look what you became!_

I don't know what to make of the emotion in his eyes when he admits:

 _I'm sorry I can't say I feel the same._

...

...

I'm speechless. I understand the only reason I don't feel tears welling up is because I'm not allowing any excess water to form in any part of my face.

And I know I should have seen this coming. Phineas turned for the worse; we had been suspecting it for a long time - all day by now - but I guess I never believed it until this moment.

I realize my eyes are closed, and my head is facing the floor. Probably because I could not bring myself to look at him. With a deep breath, I look back up and meet his eyes, a genuine frown - when was the last time _that_ happened? - showing on my face.

"I-I really am, though," he actually continues, possibly noticing the effect of his switch to the dark side. "You've done nothing to hurt me, and every minute I'm with you becomes my new favorite minute. Except, you know, for the past few days..."

He looks down awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. The uncertainty with which he carries himself makes his white garb seem more like a costume than anything.

His hands return to his sides. "What do you want, then?" I ask, gathering my courage. "Why are you here, Phineas?"

He evaluates me, most likely taking into account what I just said. I know he will believe anything I tell him; he still thinks I'm Isealia down inside. Any argument against me, therefore, he chooses to support in spite of knowing its inaccuracy.

His hands move out to the sides of his body and light up into a flowering flame. "Don't take it personally," he begins, "But I really hate you."

Wow. Hard not to take that personally.

"And for your information..." He closes his eyes, his head angled down at the floor. I would think he was ashamed if I did not know any better.

Suddenly, but not explosively, his gleaming red hair ignites into an actual fire. It burns away at the top of his head, not damaging his scalp in the slightest. The candle has been lit.

When he opens his eyes they are a gleaming maroon. "It's Perfeneas."

The heat in the room multiplies. Exponentially.

I don't know which of us shot first, but my guess is the boy in front of me. The fire coming straight for my face clashed with the water I sent en route to his. The string of vines protruding out of the nothing to my left withered away at the first touch of flame, which flickered desperately the moment it made contact with the miniature tornado to my left. At the center of the room, where everything collided, my water sizzled and snapped when a bolt of lightning struck down from the rafters in the ceiling to the metallic floor.

The world became pitch black for two and a half seconds. When light returns, so do the figures of Ferb, Gretchen, Candace, Vanessa, and Perry.

Most of the heads turn to Candace, who supposedly only made everyone visible again on a hunch. "Uh," she buckles, "Th-his was the plan, right?"

Phineas (Perfeneas?) crosses his arms over his chest; I'm surprised his clothes don't catch the fire form his hands. "Plan, huh?" He observes, "Guys, did you really do all this for me? That's so sweet!"

I don't know what would be worse: the loss of his chipper attitude upon his turning, or the retention of it. He's making it way too clear that this is not some random bad guy we're up against; it's Phineas Flynn.

Or Perfeneas, apparently.

He looks back and forth between the members of the rest of my team. "Looks like everyone's here," he continues with almost a half-smile. We each have our powers poised and at the ready. "Candace. Vanessa; you're looking well. I see Perry's here too. Hey there, boy." He waves to the ceiling where Perry had stationed himself, and the platypus does not look amused. "Ferb!" He turns abruptly to his brother. "You came, too! How great is this?"

I do not see Ferb confused often. I did one time I could remember, some April Fool's a year or so ago. Phineas and I had gotten the entire town to speak Mandarin Italian the whole day; it was great. This, however, is not one of the rare cases in which Ferb experiences confusion.

"As great as the wall surrounding India," he replies, without missing a beat.

Phineas appears to be at his least predictable at this moment. He throws his still-burning head back in laughter at Ferb's counter, as if the Brit had delivered his best one-liner yet (even I can't help but crack a smile at the memory; I never did figure out what airline food was, but I conjecture it has something to do with peanut chicken). "Haha!" The boy howls, "That's China, bro!"

I can not be the only one getting a little tired of these shenanigans, whether or not Phineas understood what Ferb was talking about - which I think he probably does.

"But seriously. None of you really have to be here - except you, Isabella. This is between you and me."

When no one moves, I decide to try talking some sense into him. "No, Phineas, this is between all of us - we care too much about you to see you like this!" I am met with no objection from any part of the rest of my team.

He nods. "Fair point," he agrees, "Let's do it, then."

Two older men appear behind him, one on either side. I recognize the one to his right as Doofenshmirtz; the other's identity is a mystery to me.

The evil scientist pushes the last of an everything bagel into his mouth. "What's going on here, now? Who are these-" he locks eyes with me. "-Oh." He continues licking his fingers more slowly.

"Dad." Phineas's voice is solemn. "Do you have the -Inator?"

"Oh - yes! Right. Forgot. I'm gonna - go get that. Come with me, Norman."

"I was a squirrel when I was born!" The other man informs randomly as he leaves with Doofenshmirtz.

"Heh. Sorry about that. He's kind of on the eccentric side. Anyway... Prepare to face your doom - I guess?" Phineas shrugs. "I don't have much practice with this, you know."

"Phineas, you can't do this!" I insist, "Please, what's possessing you to just start helping the man who misspent most of your life? Are you going to let him do that to the rest of it, too?"

"I wouldn't have a life if not for his research," he claims. He thinks for a second. "And you know what? You wouldn't either."

"Ferb tells me he didn't even give you credit for your inventions!"

Oh, how irony can be such a bully sometimes. Phineas does not know how true his words are and how much they affect me when he says, "We can't all be perfect, _Isealia_." Once, the name served as a rare term of endearment from him to me; now it seemed more like an insult. "And my father is no exception."

I blink. Candace and Vanessa stand in awkward silence. The fire on Phineas's head moves as freely as his speech. "Don't drop that on my foot, Norman!" We can hear Doofenshmirtz ordering from the other side of the room.

"Still," I counter, "You have to know what you're doing is wrong, because you're going against _me_. I do what is right, and I will always defend justice; and I always win. You're fighting a losing battle, Phineas, no matter which way you look at it."

Doofenshmirtz and Norman return at that point, heaving a large, metal invention. Once glance says it's Phineas's handiwork. "At this point, yes," the boy agrees. "But what if I took your morals and... Played with them a little?"

"You wouldn't!" Candace blurts, then covers her mouth at the realization of her speaking out of line.

"Oh, but I would," insists Phineas, "After all, what do I have to lose here? I already lost my perfection, I don't need Isabella anymore, and I'm guessing none of you are going to take me back after this, right?"

The rest of us burst into unanimous objection. Perry chatters angrily. I think I even hear Ferb's voice.

"Alright, alright; good to know. But honestly - and I don't like it any more than you do, just trust me on this - I've already been swayed. I want to want to be on your side, but..." He shrugs. "I was never given a choice. So I'll just take away yours, and bring you to ours."

A hand appears on the right side of Phineas's head; it belongs to Doofenshmirtz, seeking (and receiving) a high-four from his son. "Nice monologue!" The scientist compliments, then screams, "Ow, ow! Your hands are on fire! Ah, that was not smart! Ow."

Phineas gives Doofenshmirtz a sideways look and a cough into his hand. "Oh, right!" The scientist realizes. He points to me. "I have to zap you."

He hastily makes his way to the back of the -Inator. "Hold still!"

"Not a chance!" I refuse, placing a wall of water in front of me. I feel sick again. The beam flies.

And I should have ran.

The thing about water that I knew was going to keep me protected from the hit is its ability to refract light energy. I was expecting the beam to be redirected somewhere behind me. Instead, it had moved, ricocheted, turned around, and started heading straight for Phineas's green-haired stepbrother.

 _"Ferb!"_ Vanessa screams, her voice dripping with worry.

I have no idea what to do. In desperation I create another watery barrier to try to recreate the interference, whilst Ferb protects himself with a frenzy of plants. It does nothing to rid the room of the beam, however.

Something falls from the ceiling and lands behind the -Inator.

 _Wait... If the beam is made out of light energy..._

"Candace!" I command, "Can you control this thing?"

Candace looks up, withdrawing her hand, which had been lifted to her face for easier inspection of her red painted fingernails. "Woah! Um, I can try..."

Immediately, the ray stops in its tracks. It forms a light-white ball, about a yard in diameter, hovering precariously above the ground. "I can't get rid of it," Candace explains, "This is the most I can do."

"I got this," declares Vanessa, who launches a shadow in the blast's direction, causing it to disperse itself into nothingness. "Hey, that worked."

Phineas balls his fists. "Fire it again."

"On it!" Agrees Doofenshmirtz, punching the button.

Encouragement in my voice, I direct my speech to Vanessa. "You know what to do."

She destroys it, as well as each of the blasts that follow. "There's too many of them," she says eventually, "Candace, a little help?"

"You got it." Candace takes each of the beams and molds them into the energy balls that the first became, lines them up neatly, and watches as Vanessa shoots her own energy at them with her own great flourish.

I look to Ferb; didn't he have a thing for her? However, now his face is not even pointed towards where the twenty-year-old is showing off her accuracy. It is directed at the back of the -Inator, where I can faintly see Perry working on something.

Ferb returns his gaze to Gretchen and me, and we all seem to get the idea: we need to keep Doofenshmirtz and Phineas distracted.

"Why can't I hit anyone?" The latter demands, clearly no longer worried about who gets hit - as long as it's someone.

"Because your aim is terrible," Gretchen remarks. I look at her, surprised. "Yeah, you couldn't hit an elephant with a dart at point-blank range."

Insults? Oh, now I see what she's doing.

"Why, you little-"

 _Doofenshmirtz fell for the taunt!_

The evil scientist clenches a couple fists. "Alright, you're definitely getting -Inated now."

Gretchen sticks her tongue out at him, making a goofy face. Doofenshmirtz now focuses all his attention on hitting her.

And her taunts do not prove to be half wrong, as once she takes off to fly around the apartment evading blasts, none of them come close to even nipping her.

"Go, Isabella!" She cries, "Ferb and I will handle Doofenshmirtz!"

I watch out of the corner of my eye as Gretchen takes the air around him and picks him up, almost by levitation. She and Ferb exchange glances as she thrusts him upwards, suspending him to the ceiling.

Ferb wraps some vines around him to keep him there. When he is done, the evil scientist can be recognized only as a nest of green hanging from the top of the room.

"Wow, vengeance is underrated," Gretchen realizes with a smile, "I rather enjoyed that. Isabella, look! Phineas is headed towards the-"

The -Inator! "Oh, no, you don't," I spit, no longer holding anything back and booking it towards him.

His determined eyes meet mine, and things start to slow down a little.

I can faintly hear the sounds of electricity crackling behind the machine. It is unclear whether or not Perry is done back there.

A wall of rock surrounds the -Inator on all sides, boxing him in, just in case he is not finished. I send Ferb a mental thank-you.

Gretchen flies to the top of it and peers in to monitor his progress.

Now that I don't have to worry about Phineas reaching the -Inator, it becomes a simple matter of him and me. We hurtle towards each other, each with different intentions for doing so.

His hands, still in flames, swing back and forth as he advances. The fire grows. Out of his head sprouts a mane of burning.

I reciprocate this development, forming decently-sized balls of water in my hands. My footsteps leave wetness behind.

Suddenly, we meet in the middle of the room. I line myself with a considerably-sized layer of water, like the slime coating on a poisonous amphibian. He thrusts his hands into my face - not making contact; I know he would never do that, not even now - and I grab his wrists to try to keep him in control.

His wrists are really, really hot.

His eyes glow with maroon.

His hair is aflame.

His ears might be steaming, but it might be my imagination.

I can't tell whether or not he is smiling. His mouth always looks the same from this angle.

Perry chatters and the stone walls shoot back into the floor.

Ferb fires the beam and it hits Phineas. Mission accomplished!

...

...Why is he still resisting me?

"What did you do to that machine?" He asks, snapping in the direction of the -Inator.

"W-We... Reversed the polarity..." Gretchen explains. "...It should have gotten you back to our side."

His eyes go wider. "Really? Well, thanks for that, but it doesn't seem to be working. I'm still trying to stop you."

"Thanks for the reminder," I mutter, shifting my weight to better hold him back.

"Dad!" Vanessa, looking up from a stack of papers she holds in her hands, yells to the ceiling where Gretchen and Ferb trapped Doofenshmirtz. "What did you do?"

"Mph pleaebleah!" He responds.

"I guess that's just the power of science?" Phineas guesses, "That serum must have been really powerful."

Serum? What ser-

Ooohhh. That serum. He got that too.

Okay.

I pull his wrists down towards me, forcing him to look me in the eyes. "What are you talking about?" I demand, for before doing what I'm about to I have to make sure it will work.

"It was Dad. Like five years ago he gave me this serum that eventually gave me these powers and made me hate you. Got it right before - you know, five years ago."

Just as I suspected. "I got that too..." I whisper.

"Well, yeah, that's how you have your powers. And everyone else here. Seems pretty obvious to me."

I stare at the scar on the right side of the bottom of his neck, identical in every way to mine.

"Phineas, I'm going to do something, and before I do, you need to know this."

"What's that?"

 _I'm not perfect._

"I know you're in there, Phineas. And wherever you are... I love you."

And then I kiss him.

Things start to get a little cooler.

* * *

Phineas's POV

That was the last time I would see my father, I'm sure of it now. You know what? No, I can't even call him that. I will never see _Doofenshmirtz_ again - that's much better.

Of course, I don't really have the foresight to say that for certain, but I know I'm definitely not ever planning on going back. We got Irving to agree to stop doing those television episode things, so now there should be no reason for us to have to ever share the same space. And for the record, my father's name is Lawrence Fletcher.

Remember when I was describing the true definition of awkward? I was wrong. The trip home was the true definition of awkward.

I bit my lip the whole time, trying to keep myself from saying anything that would make me look like even more of a fool.

Isabella and I hadn't said a word to each other, but I could tell she was just happy that what she did worked. Honestly, so am I; I really did not enjoy siding with Doofenshmirtz. Evil just never fit me.

I can almost remember what happened when she turned me back, but just barely. The flame on my head went out (being bald for a second felt weird) before my hair grew back into place, and my hands returned to normal. No one has tried to use their powers since the incident, so we don't know if they are still there, but we feel just the same so we kind of assume they are.

Gretchen had a weird run-in with what appeared to be an old acquaintance, which even she hardly recognized. I remember the conversation clearly for its strangeness.

"Miss," the man had called, and Gretchen turned. "It is you! I knew it!"

He was heavily built, with a large face and some almost-noticeable muscles hidden under his policeman attire. "Forgive me, I just never imagined I'd ever meet you again," he apologized for his excitement. "Remember me? From the plane ride a few years back?"

Gretchen looked at him strangely, as did the rest of us. "Kindly remind me," she asked, "Who are you?"

"Ah." He pulled out his wallet, with a badge attached. "José Ramirez. I came from Mexico, just like you. And we both learned some more English! How about that."

A few seconds passed. "It's alright, I wouldn't expect you to remember. I just have a really good memory for faces."

Gretchen raised a finger. "Wait... Are you..?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Are... Are you that individual adjacent to whom I situated myself on the plane ride to this country? Who I pretended to be related to?"

He beamed, showing off a set of misshapen yellow teeth. "That's me."

She looked him up and down. "Well," she began, a hint of annoyance in her voice. The man was the only one who could not tell she was not harboring fond memories of the incident. "You have cleaned up."

"Sure have." He paused. "So, what's new?"

I was sure there were plenty of things that were new, but she did not deem any of them important enough to discuss. "Nothing? Well, I've had an eventful few years, myself. Did I mention it? The WGPM finally promoted me to the status of OC."

We all gawked at him. "Oh, yes. Sorry, guys, he tends to get this way sometimes," Gretchen explained, though a blow that large needed little explaining.

"No, really," the man insisted, "All my higher-ups at the Western Guild of Policial Matters thought I was too unprofessional to be considered for the rank of Officer Colonel, but did I show them!"

He half-pumped a large fist into the air. I know I would not remember some random person I met on a plane half a decade ago, but that guy seemed rather memorable. We all shuffled away quietly.

No one says a word as we walk through the gate into the backyard. Irving, Baljeet, and Ginger are already there, sprawled out on the grass with Baljeet's cell phone between them and on speaker.

"...So then I thought she said leprechauns, but she really said - oh, Phineas and everyone else came back," Baljeet observed, sitting upright to face us. "Buford is on the phone."

"Oh, hey Bufe," I greet. "What's goin' on?"

"What's goin' on?" The phone answers, "Nothin', that's what. It's so boring out here. Nothing ever happens in this place. Grenda, put those deer teeth down!"

"Oh, well. We'll still be here to make your life fun again when you get back to the Tri-State Area," I blurt. Yes, I think I'm definitely becoming me again. I smile.

"We were just telling him what happened at Isabella's birthday a few days ago," Baljeet informed. "Long story short..."

"...Baljeet and I are now a couple!" Ginger finishes. Everyone seems to share in their happiness, that is, until Buford speaks up about a similar experience he had.

"Yeah, it's that time o' year," he says, and none of us seem to understand exactly what that means until he continues. "I got myself a girl over here, too. Say hi, Paz."

A somewhat-western female voice comes into the receiver. "Well, what do you want me to say? ...Hi? That's it? ...Okay. Hi, Buford's friends. Hey, can we go for milkshakes later? My parent's'll buy."

Buford takes the phone back. "Heh, sorry 'bout 'Cif, she's from a..."

A cheer can be heard in the background, followed by the sound of papers fluttering to the ground and an excited cry of "Money!" from the female's voice.

"...Rich family."

"I can see that," Baljeet agrees. "Anyway, I think we will be going. See you in a few days?"

"Few days, 'Jeet. And Ginger, word of advice: there's no cap on the amount of nerds a bully can get. Don't stoop to your boyfriend's level, you hear?"

Ginger laughs. "Not making any promises."

"In that case, I got my eye on you. Anyhow, see ya."

Everyone inserts their own goodbye to Buford, none of us quite believing that he had picked up a girl so quickly. Everyone except Perry, that is. And Ferb.

And... Vanessa.

"Alright, well, I'm all set to go in," Isabella says after Baljeet hangs up, making her way to the back door. "Coming, Phineas?"

I stop. "Um... You guys go in without me. I'm gonna stay behind a bit, okay? I'll be in in a few minutes."

I can sense the feelings of mistrust on displayed on the faces of Isabella, Candace, Gretchen, and even Perry, but they seem to be okay with the idea if I don't take too long. I'd like to sort some things out with myself for a few moments.

I make my way over to the maple tree and station myself down under it, as I always like to do. I share the cool summer evening with fireflies and mosquitoes alike, plus the sound of - voices?

Carefully, I tiptoe along to the side of the house, where I can start to make out Vanessa's. "Listen... Are things still awkward between us?"

I furrow my brow and peer around the corner, where I can see Ferb shaking his head.

 _Oh... So that's what this is about._

"...Okay. Good. Because I don't want to really make it any more awkward than it needs to be."

She ruffles some papers that I saw her steal from Doofenshmirtz's. "I was just looking earlier, to see if my dad has any legal parental rights over Phineas... And he does..."

Darnity, wait for it, darn.

"You know, just to see if we could use that to our advantage should it have turned legal. But I was looking, and I found something else. These have to do with my mom..."

She shows the papers to Ferb, whose eyes seem to double in size after reading the indicated sentences. "Yeah, she's... My only legal parent. Dad isn't."

I almost gasp, but don't for fear of being caught. "You know what that means?"

Ferb motions his hand from the top of his head to the top of hers, a universal indication that represents a distance in height between two individuals. "I know, I know. But as it turns out, this means that I'm not - really - actually - technically - related to you."

What? How does that-

"Let me explain..."

Okay.

"I was born to my parents, Charlene and Heinz. You have completely different ones, right?"

A big nod of the head from Ferb's corner.

"And all this time we thought we were siblings, because my dad is Phineas's dad, and his mom married your dad. So we thought we were all - you, Phineas, Candace, and I - all siblings somehow or another. Only, we-" she points between them. "-We were never related by blood. You didn't know I was your sister until you found out Doofenshmirtz was my father, right? But in the eyes of the law..." She shook the stack of documents. "He isn't. And we aren't blood related, either. So... We aren't actually siblings."

A beat passes. "Yeah... How about that. Oh, don't worry, this only changes things between you and me," she goes on. "You're still legally Phineas's and Candace's brother, I'm still biologically Doofenshmirtz's daughter, and Phineas's and Candace's sister. So. That's a thing."

When have I ever seen Vanessa so nervous? I can tell she's trying to get at something, but I don't really know what.

"Hey, did something happen?" She wonders, "Because I know at least a year or so ago this would have been great news for you."

The head shake this time is much, much slower than normal. It's a lying shake. Oh, Ferb.

"Okay, listen. I don't really know what you're thinking right now... And I was going to wait until you were eighteen before saying it, but... If you do still have that - crush on me..."

"...I don't."

"...I reciprocate."

The last two sentences they had said at the same time. Vanessa's entire figure falls as if she had just said something colossally embarrassing, which I suppose she did.

Ferb looks at her, stares her down, evaluates her. "Well... I guess that's that then," she concludes, then turns to walk away; Ferb's hand on her arm stops her.

"What?"

"I-" Ferb tries to sort out his words. "Please, I was just finally learning how to treat you like a sister. There's love there, of course, but..."

He doesn't have to finish, but he does anyway. "Give me some time. Four years?"

Four years... If he's fourteen now, then that means - ah. "Four years," repeats Vanessa. "Okay..."

"And in the meantime, we can join Phineas to go inside for snacks," Ferb notes, pointing in my direction.

"Hey!" I come out of my hiding place. "Ah, I should have known you'd see me, Ferbo. Uh, sorry if I'm interrupting anything..."

Vanessa turns. "Um, no. We were just - going inside anyway."

"Alrighty then." I invite them to follow me.

"And Vanessa?" I grab her attention as she walks into the door, once Ferb is out of hearing range. "Ferb's pretty good with this. I promise we'll make the wait worth it."

She slightly grins. "Thanks."

"No problem." I motion her to go in farther. "After you. My mom has pie."

We walk farther into the house and into the kitchen, where there is indeed half of a pie on the counter. The other half is shared between everyone else in our group. Vanessa and I join them, but I can't seem to focus on everything that's said.

We all have a recount of our day, but for certain reasons no one asks me about what I've been through. Baljeet laments not being there, and Gretchen - of all people - was the one who decided to comfort him about it. Ferb and Vanessa end up having this secret staring contest, or something, and it's hard to judge the winner. At one point Isabella dismisses herself from the table, and everyone tries to convince me it's nothing - much more suspiciously than necessary. She's still perfect. Even after she comes back fifteen minutes later in a set of light pink pajamas that she left here once, her hair in frays and the braid and bow removed. She hardly picks at her pie after that, choosing some of our bubbliest soda instead, but since when has Isabella been a fan of pie anyway?

* * *

 _The next day..._

My eyes come comfortably open seconds before the alarm clock starts trumpeting the first verse of a song we had played years ago. What was it again?

"Summer Belongs to You!" That's the one. Yes - today is June twenty-first, the summer solstice!

I sit up and swipe the alarm off with a smile once I hear Isabella's younger voice join my own. We all had such cartoonishly high voices back then. Now mine just cracks.

The last words of a certain poem I think I made up last night echo in my head. I can hardly remember more than that.

 _She's the one who can lock up the terrible half_  
 _Of the man who walks on the right path..._

She? As in, Isabella? Well, it's a good thing she figured that out, or we all would have been toast. I try not to remember the face she made when trying to hold back my fiery figure.

I sigh. I really don't have any idea what she must think of me right now, despite everything she said and did to me yesterday.

In any case, I do need to get a day started. It's the first day of summer! I excitedly shake Ferb awake. He has become more of a late sleeper recently; boy needs to grow, or something silly like that.

Ablutions done, we race downstairs and breakfast happens. It's still dark out, of course, because there's no way we're missing a second of sunlight on the longest day of the year!

My head turns at the sound of the gate opening, and I feel the smile forming on my face before I know how to stop it.

I'm vaguely aware of Ferb leaving my side under the tree to go into the house, but I think nothing of it.

"Isabella," I say. She looks much less pale than yesterday.

We breathe for a minute.

"Hey... Whatcha doin'?"

There it is. She used the whatcha doin', and I know what that means. So far so good.

I draw my knees closer to my chest. "Apologizing to you."

She raises one brow, and I motion for her to sit next to me, where Ferb usually is. "No, really. You didn't deserve anything I tried to do to you yesterday."

"Phineas." Isabella pauses. "You didn't have control over any of that. You said it yourself: that was all Doofenshmirtz's fault."

"Yeah, Perry wrote me that he's going to go over there again today. He wants to try to get him to truly reform. And if anyone can do that, it's Perry."

"Yeah."

We sit in silence, as I tick away the seconds towards the rising of the solstice sun. "Um, I've been thinking," I begin, apprehensively.

"About what?"

"About..." I look around, making sure no one can hear the conversation - a silly thing to do when Isabella and I are the only people in the yard. "...About, you know, the two of us... And I don't know if we should really keep going on like this."

A beat passes, and then, "Are you sure?"

I knew this was coming, however. "Well, I know I said I would let you decide when we should come out about it, but after what happened yesterday, I'm not sure I can keep it up. I couldn't control myself at all."

Isabella thinks for a few precious moments. My heart beats faster as the time nears that which is the approximated sunrise for today.

"You know... I think I have an idea," she says after a while.

"Let's hear it."

"Well, if the problem is that you can't play oblivious anymore, but you don't want us to come out with our identities yet (because what would happen if you lost control again after that happened?), maybe we could switch."

Um... Question mark. "What?"

She turns so that her whole body is facing me. "I'll pretend to be the oblivious one, while you can publicly start 'liking' me. I won't notice because, as far as everyone else is concerned... I'm giving up on you this summer."

"...Isabella, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"Would it be totally cliché if I said I thought that idea was perfect?"

She laughs. "Yes. Yes, it would."

"Alright." I stand up, then reach out a hand to her and help her to her feet. "I'll just think it, then."

We turn around; it's almost time. "Now, come on. The sun's only up sixteen hours today, and we have to seize each and every one of them!"

The back fence collapses to the ground, as it does sometimes when we want to see the sunrise. Ferb comes out from the back door and joins us as we watch the first morning sky of the summer come into existence.

"One down," Isabella says.


	11. Epilogue: The Perfect Couple

_A light guitar riff can be heard as the camera pulls away from a close-up of the writer's avatar, which is revealed to be a decal pressed onto the back of her open laptop. The machine rests on the lap of a blue-eyed girl in her teens, who promptly pushes a few strands of long, dirty blonde hair behind her ear. Piles of envelopes are scattered about on the red and white afghan draped over the bed she is sitting on; she is in her bedroom, a brightly-lit area with even brighter walls - a very saturated yellow on top and a deep, slightly orange-tinted red on the bottom. A plush version of Perry the Platypus in his pet mode can be seen on her right._

"Hello!" _She greets with a smile,_ "Let me introduce myself. My name - that is, my pen name - is the WGPM. I'm the writer of, among other things, _Made for Each Other_ and _Misspent_ , the story you're probably reading right now. Hopefully."

 _The WGPM fiddles a bit with her many wristbands, smiling nervously and looking around the room for a second. Excited, she continues._ "And I'm proud to announce that as of right now, the second installment of the MFEO series is complete! But you know, I definitely couldn't have done it all without you guys. See, if the big block of author's note at the beginning of every chapter called Review Responses hasn't made it obvious, I've gotten a pret-tee good number of reviews to these stories, and I can't thank you enough. I can try, but it'd get annoying long before coming close to expressing my sentiment on the subject."

 _She clasps her hands together, looking down at the piles of paper gathered on her bed._ "Oh, these aren't them," _she clarifies._ "These I just have here to mimic Dan Povenmire and Swampy Marsh's introduction to an episode of _Phineas and Ferb_ \- you might have heard of it? - called 'Act Your Age'. No, all of my reviews I can access simply by making a few clicks on this here computer.

"One that particularly got me thinking was this one from a Guest, posted to the first story, claiming that, 'For real, Squirtle is the best Gen I starter. I mean, give Blastoise earthquake and surf and it is unstoppable.' To which I offer a resounding-" _she sticks both of her arms out straight, fingers pointed to the Charizard picture on her laptop_ "-NO. But ah, we've been there and back, and decided it's okay to have preferences, everyone!

"But more relevantly, let's check out this other one - also to the original story - from EpicThoth3's, who ends with a request: 'If you make a sequel to this, can it be about a new episode where Doofenshmirtz's latest scheme forces Perfeneas and Isealia to reveal who they really are?' Well, at this time I had already drafted a sequel, and that isn't what I had in mind exactly. Which, if you're reading this, you should probably be able to figure out.

"But, that doesn't mean the idea can't be done!" _The WGPM reveals giddily,_ "And a long time ago I decided that if that were ever to happen, it'd be in the MFEO version of, you guessed it, 'Act Your Age'. There had to be some tweaks here and there (no Doof scheme, sorry), but overall I like how it came out. This epilogue takes place roughly six years after the rest of _Misspent_ , and is a retelling of that episode as it happens in this universe. Also, spoilers (duh), and I don't own this episode, so some of the dialogue might sound familiar. I really hope you enjoy it, so please, sit back, relax, grab your popcorn, and don't let the timeline throw you!"

 _She holds up one of her accessory-ridden wrists and sets her watch forward six years._

* * *

 _Epilogue_

 _Six years later_

It was not the first time Phineas Flynn had reached an impasse. Life was full of hard choices, from which identical copy of the same shirt to wear to which invention in the large book of blueprints to build today. But the twenty-one-year-old had only dealt with small decisions like that that only he would agree have an actual significant impact on life; this was because he treated every day as its own separate life, and never let one go to waste. Sure, he had to put some thought into which would be his first car, but he ultimately decided to create one on his own with features that would put even the new technological vehicles to shame. Sure, he had to decide how much he was willing to spend on a new holo-laptop, but again, he realized he could just make one himself. It could practically be done with the money earned from his patents on that invention alone.

All of Phineas's most life-changing decisions could have been solved right up with some inventing, but no amount of screwdrivers was going to help him choose the perfect college.

He threw some ideas out at his brother Ferb, none of which struck him as absolutely _him_. There was one reason for this, although maybe he would have refused it if asked: he would be able to execute any job almost flawlessly. He was a blank canvas that could be painted in any way, shape, or form and every result would be just as inspirational as the last. The massive amount of colleges who accepted him only proved this. Therefore, there was nothing for him to pursue in specific that would match his abilities to the proverbial T. He had no vocation. Everything was perfect for him, and that's why nothing was.

Trade school? Why would that be a better choice than art school? Likewise, what did art school offer Phineas that he could not get in trade? Eventually Ferb, wise younger stepbrother that he was, provided a simple answer: "Get in the booth," he insisted, no longer worrying so much about his line count per day. He had reverted back to his older ways of speaking semi-uncommonly, rather than legendarily rarely.

 _That's it!_ Thought Phineas. _If the only problem is my indecision, the most logical solution would be to let something random and unbiased choose for me!_

He ended up labeling this random, unbiased chance as fate. The enthusiastic young adult closed the door to the booth behind him, and Ferb pressed the button that would decide the majority of the rest of his brother's life. It was not the first time.

The first choice had to be discarded due to the sudden complication of realizing the school's location was unsuitable for Phineas's summer-baked tastes. The second was just ridiculous.

One remark about their supposedly easy childhood later and the conversation was interrupted by the opening of the bedroom door. It was none other than Baljeet Tjinder, former protector of Perfeneas, who had remained friends with the stepbrothers throughout the past eleven years. "So, still trying to figure out where to go to school?" He asked, after clearing his throat for whatever had made his voice drop so low as he greeted them.

"Workin' on it," Phineas answered. _Still workin' on it..._

Baljeet smiled. Phineas, Ferb, and Isabella had each waited a few more years than normal before actually getting started on their collegiate careers, each for their own reasons. The Indian man then informed the two of his own recent acceptance into a college - but as a professor, not as a student.

"Yeah, Baljeet... You already told us. You taught us pre-calc senior year, remember?" Phineas reminded him. He felt it ridiculous that he would even need to.

"Oh, yes. Buford was not in that class..." He lamented. Turning, he noticed his burly childhood friend-slash-bully walking into the room with a sandwich. "I was just thinking, now that I do work in the education field, I could probably pull a few strings and get him into my school. Just think, Buford." He turned to the man with a silly grin. "You could be my student! I could be the boss of you!"

Buford waved this off, warning him not to get too excited. He was going to go into drama, he claimed, focusing on tragedies.

Phineas wondered for a moment if his own had somehow slipped back into Buford's memory, but this worry was dashed when the man described his ideal film: _"The story of a struggling orphan's transcendental search for meaning in a post-apocalyptic society."_

"It sounds pretentious," Baljeet remarked.

Buford, not knowing the meaning of this word, took it as a compliment; Baljeet ignored this, instead directing his attention to Ferb. "So, Ferb, you're off to school in England?"

Where else would the Brit consider a suitable place to spend the start of his adulthood? "Yeah, he's going to Camford on Oxbury," Phineas confirmed.

Ferb had to make sure it was understood throughout the whole room that he was not going to a wizard school.

...Well, an _all_ -wizard school.

Buford and Baljeet then proceeded to bounce ideas off of Phineas, one of which being the option of going to law school with Candace. He refused each of them, choosing instead to narrow the decision down to two local colleges: Danville U, and Tri-State State.

 _Looks like I have some thinkin' to do..._

* * *

Irving Du Bois was not sure, exactly, what had gotten him back into the O.W.C.A., but whatever it was, he was beyond grateful for it. It was his dream job, after all; many viewed him as a stalker, but he considered himself a first-class spy. Maybe Commander Carl had seen this in him as well.

He blinked when he heard the -Inator alert system going off after so many years of atrophy. With a furrowed brow, he swiped the dust away from the picture of the scientist that the system had indicated was acting up and recognized the face immediately.

It was Doofenshmirtz, the man who had put into existence the one and only Perfeneas.

 _No,_ Irving reminded himself, _Phineas. His name is Phineas Flynn. Always has been._

And he was not supposed to know Doofenshmirtz's name, either. When making the call to Carl, he treated his pretend slipup in the pronunciation as practice for when he was allowed to return to the field.

The Commander had verified that he was onto the case, and excused Irving of his responsibilities concerning the alert. The young man hung up as well, letting his mind wander to the evening he was going to have. He had just gotten a new car, after all, and a night joyriding with Gretchen had been in order since he had first jingled the keys.

* * *

Perry the Platypus was technically retired from the OWCA by now, already being alive for much longer than normal platypuses. However, as a monotreme who loved his job, he was ready as always to accept a mission from the agency if his assistance was needed. And for the first time in a while, he discovered, today, it was. He strapped on his favorite jetpack and made way for Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated for a reason other than bowling.

* * *

"So, I hear Isabella is off to Tri-State State," Baljeet informed anyone in the kitchen who was listening.

Phineas fit that description. "Oh, wow, really?" He responded, a little nervous. He never quite knew how to compose himself when talking about her these days. "Haven't seen much of her this summer."

He and Baljeet disregarded Buford's remark about the Flynn-Fletchers' choices of food. "So she's... leaving?"

"Yeah, I always thought the two of you would end up together."

And with this, Baljeet caused Phineas a series of mental tremors and a pile of stress. Any mention of him and Isabella being a couple had been avoided all summer, and Phineas was less than prepared to fall into his oblivious act. He almost forgot to pretend he was still vying for her, and said the first silly thing that came to mind: "Yeah, I wish." _Whoops, too direct. Need a little explanation._ "I am _so_ in the friend zone there."

 _Friend zone? Really, Phineas? Who even says that anymore?_

"You are... Kidding, right?" As these words left Baljeet's mouth, Phineas began to realize he was in too deep. The reveal was coming, and Oblivious Phineas was about to hit the dust. "You do know she had a giant crush on you for ages."

Phineas was paralyzed; this wasn't good. He had to tell Isabella somehow. "Uh... No..." He stuttered, trying to keep his cover.

Buford and Baljeet were not helping, citing specifics: the whatcha doin's, which he always took as a term of endearment anyway; the cartoonish hearts in Isabella's eyes when they landed on him. He could not do anything but stammer out a quick "I don't believe it" (which was true; the moment felt so surreal), ask and receive Ferb's confirmation that yes, this was really happening, and ask desperately why that had never been brought up before.

Baljeet's excuse was the most ridiculous thing he heard come out of the professor's mouth, which was impressive considering he heard the infamous 'Fail Wail' all those years ago. "We are guys. We do not talk about feelings."

Buford simply shrugged.

Phineas paid no attention as the topic of conversation moved onto more guy-friendly things. He quickly apologized, claiming his brain was broken, and left to get a walk and some fresh air. What was he going to tell Isabella, especially now that she was leaving Danville?

A bout of air escaped him as he felt for the doorknob. It was going to be an interesting day.

* * *

The setting was busy and the air was charged with entertainment and fine cuisine at Nosh Olé, Vivian García-Shapiro's Mexican-Jewish café. Gretchen and the rest of the Fireside Girls that Isabella had joined were convening there for the last time, to see their friend off. "Ginger, are you texting Baljeet again?" Teased Holly, and the Japanese-American blushed.

"Yeah, we're trying to decide which movie to see later..."

Ginger and Baljeet had been going relatively strong over the past couple years, much to the dismay of the rest of her friends. Gretchen had also stayed with Irving over their teenage years (there was a bit of fighting here and there, but mostly good stuff, Gretchen would explain before shyly changing the subject to her SAT scores), but it was no secret that between the six of them, Ginger had it best in the romance world - even if her partner was the nerdy Baljeet. The conversation carried on as normal, boy talk and gossip dominating much of the dialogue.

That is, until the manager's daughter herself showed up at their table. "Hi guys! Food's up!" Isabella greeted, placing the girls' orders in front of each. The tempting aromas wafting up from each plate made up for her next comment. "Aw, just think. This may be the last time I'm stuffing your faces before I'm off to school."

With this, she said a temporary farewell and moved to pick up the café's phone. "Hey hey! Baljeet says okay to my movie!" Ginger celebrated, earning jealous but friendly looks from the other ladies. Adyson, of course, took credit for this breakthrough.

Gretchen was curious. "Where is Baljeet, anyway?" She wondered. The two had somewhat overcome their rivalry over the years, but neither would yet admit any inferiority to the other's intelligence.

However, she was not expecting the answer Ginger gave, or its result. "Over at Phineas's house."

The entire group sighed. "Phineas..."

Gretchen was the only one - barring Isabella, of course - that knew of the boy's true history, and therefore was responsible for keeping the secret. It was almost an inside joke with herself when she claimed, "It's too bad Isabella and Phineas never got together." She gave herself a mental pat on the back for directing the conversation away from the possibility of her statement being wrong.

Holly, however, took her by surprise. "Yeah, I always thought they were made for each other."

The entire group quieted. "What?"

"Oh... nothing," Gretchen dismissed, shyly.

"So we're all in agreement then?" Adyson suggested, and no one objected. Gretchen's horror when she commanded Ginger to focus the entire group's efforts for the entire day on establishing a romantic relationship between Phineas and Isabella was therefore on the extreme side.

* * *

Phineas took in the suburbs as he strolled down its glittery sidewalks. He stopped once he spotted an elderly woman, trying to shove a package into a mailbox.

Recognizing her face, he ran up and opened its hatch. "Here, let me get that for you, Nana Shapiro."

"Phineas Flynn!" As expected, the woman was all-too-eager to start gushing over her granddaughter's best friend. "Where're you going to school?" She eventually asked.

"I haven't really decided," he explained.

"Well, Isabella sure knows where she's headed in life. You're all she talked about over the past ten years, you know. Ever since she lost her perfection and moved here to the-"

"Lost her perfection?" Phineas repeated. Being the mother of Isabella's dad, the woman was fully aware of Isabella's past life - but her summer visits to the Tri-State Area to escape the broiling heat of Mexico during those months did nothing to keep her in touch with who knew what on the situation. "I'm sorry, what? I'm the one who's not perfect anymore..."

"Oh, honey, didn't you know? She lost it right around the time you did. Something about a test to see who-"

"She did!? But-"

"Phineas, look at me. I'm little Isabella's Nana, I know her the best out of everyone but her parents - and trust me, it happened. If there's anything you need to say to her, you better get over to the restaurant and say it. She's going away to college today; her summer's almost over."

 _Today! How did I forget?_ "I - you're right. Thanks!"

He ran off towards the restaurant faster than he ever remembered running. Then he turned around, for in his haste, he had forgotten the exact location of the café.

* * *

The Fireside Girls were making progress on their daily project: setting up a small dinner in the backyard for Phineas and Isabella. It went unspoken that Gretchen was the team leader on this one, as she was the one that felt so sad about the two never getting together before. She and Ferb kept exchanging nervous glances, but neither was able to call off the plan.

Therefore, Gretchen got creative. The balloons she tied around the place were not their favorite colors, the songs she loaded onto her MP3 player were not as she had claimed, and the "Think about love" sign was going in the incinerator the second she could get her hands on it.

The group moved into the kitchen to prepare the meal; Gretchen pulled Ferb aside. "Ferb, what are we doing?" She whispered, mixing a bowl of cake batter to make herself look useful. "If anyone sees Phineas and Isabella as a couple, they'll find out who they really are. Are we in a sufficient position currently to deal with the consequences of that reveal? Do you know if they are?"

Ferb looked sideways to her. "Yeah, you shoulda seen his face when 'Jeet finally told him," she heard Buford hollering. "It was priceless!"

"Well... That explains some things," she observed. She looked over her shoulder to see Baljeet talking to the burly man. "But what did Phineas say? Does Isabella know what happened?"

Ferb shook his head. "On his way now, then, I'm guessing," Gretchen guessed. "I still don't know about this, though..."

"It'll be all right," Ferb said with assurance. "This is Phineas we're talking about. It had to happen sometime."

Gretchen considered this. "True..."

* * *

A terrified secret agent platypus winced at his nemesis's driving; it never had gotten any better. He pulled down on the sides of his fedora as the two swerved around a corner to lose a dumpster the scientist had picked up with the back of his new sports car.

The dumpster flew down the street, paying no mind to the cars it almost ran over or the cafés it rolled past. In front of one of these stood Isabella, who changed out of her work clothes, and her mother saying their final goodbyes before the girl had to leave for college.

The farewell was tearful on Vivian's part - out of happiness or sadness, Isabella did not know. Vivian handed her daughter her final pay and waved as she saw her off.

Isabella reached into a pocket to retrieve her wallet, and in went the money. With this movement, however, came the popping out of a certain school picture of a certain teenaged redheaded Flynn, and he was not Candace.

Isabella's brow furrowed as she looked at the picture. It was Phineas, whom she had known for half her life. Whom she was infatuated with. Whom she shared a secret with.

Whom she never decided it was time with.

The emotions piled up quickly. Phineas, who never saw her imperfection. Who she would not be able to see again in years. Whose wise words she needed to make the anxiety she felt at that moment fly right away and never scare her again.

It culminated to the point where she had to let it all out through song.

 _Too scared that you would see me, I was glad that you were blind_  
 _But now I fear tomorrow, more than all the stuff behind_  
 _And what would our lives have been like, if you would have just seen the signs_  
 _That I need you more now than every other time I feared combined?_

 _I seized so many summers, worried something might begin_  
 _I thought I knew when it was time, but we're at square one again..._

 _What might have been?_

Phineas was not sure, in retrospect, why he did not just take the car. But, here he was, running desperately to catch Isabella before she would be gone. Two things were on his mind, with a third hidden between the nooks and crannies of his brain.

One, he could not be oblivious anymore. Since both of them had shown interest in each other, they were now expected to become a couple, and everyone would know they were Perfeneas and Isealia.

Two, the girl whom he had so admired over the years was just revealed to be exactly the same as him: an experiment fallen from perfection. She had never been more human in his eyes; the day he stopped pretending to be oblivious was the day he discovered he truly was.

Three, and not quite as high on his priority list, there was still the issue of which college to choose.

These three things swirled around in his head as he braced himself for the following conversation. He opened the door.

And Isabella wasn't there; Vivian was.

"Hi, Mrs. García-Shapiro. Is Isabella here?"

His heart, mind, and soul all fell at the same time when he learned the inevitable: she had already left.

"You know, since you were kids she's had a huge crush on you."

He sighed, thinking about how oblivious he had been. Not to the fact that Vivian had just repeated; to what he actually was not aware of. "I wish I had known."

The only way to put it, he decided, would be in a song.

 _I know that after all this time, I've... Come to loathe the word_  
 _But I thought that you were perfect, and I guess I never heard_  
 _The clock ticking away again; I should have been much more alert_  
 _To see that we were still the same - it couldn't have been more overt!_

 _But now our final summer means our time's about to end_  
 _I tried to make the most of every day, but now the years just seem misspent..._

 _What might have been?_

Isabella continued driving towards the edge of town, while Phineas glumly started his journey home. Sure, he could call her once he was sure she got to school all right, but the things he needed to say to her had to be in person. The two continued their song, reflecting on their decision to keep quiet about their relationship and realizing they had waited much too long - was it even valid at this point to say they had ever been together?

 _Was I ever your girlfriend? Was I ever your fella?  
Could we have been an item... Called Perfenalia, Phinabella?_  
 _I wanted to be there for you; would you have shared my umbrella?_  
 _Would you have held my hair back, if you'd known I had salmonella?_

 _Could we have been together, if I had only told you when?  
And though I thought that we were so much more, I guess you've always been my friend..._

 _What might have been?_

 _What might have been?_

Isabella sighed. She knew she had made a mistake in not saying something sooner, and Phineas was now paying for it. The Danville sign inched past her passenger-side window, and a little part of her heart just broke. "What might have been?"

* * *

"It's good, but..."

"It's still missing something..."

Purely to satiate the requirements of his friends, Ferb withdrew a vased flower and placed it in the exact center of the table. He still was not sure how Phineas would react to the setup - that is, if he even got to see it, which he might not - but something told him it would all work out properly.

A few of Isabella's friends tried contacting the college-bound young woman, but various problems arose (he picked up on Gretchen's excuse, too - she did have Isabella's current number, but clearly refused to use it).

When the dumpster that Doofenshmirtz picked up before flew across the yard and removed the entire day's work, he and Gretchen were both secretly a little relieved. Katie voiced the déjà vu they had each experienced at the project's inexplicable removal from the yard: "Wow, now it's _exactly_ like it was when we were kids!"

* * *

 _Two blocks left... One block... What might have been... Well, this is Maple Drive. Guess I'm home._

Before turning to look at his own house, Phineas took a few seconds to take in the one across the street. _Wow. Never thought I'd see that house so empty._

A delivery truck pulled away from the street in front of his home (Was Ferb working on something?), and behind it he had faced one of the biggest uncertainties in his life: was it just his imagination, or was Isabella really sitting on his stoop?

The two stared each other down for a while, and Phineas was reminded what he had learned about her earlier. _She lost it right around the time you did..._

He was going in that direction anyway, so he did not feel it intrusive to walk directly up to her. He ran through words in his head, of possible things to say, ways to start the desperately necessary conversation.

Eventually he settled on something he considered - no, not perfect, but as close as it would come. "Whatcha doin'?" He chuckled, earning a grin from Isabella.

He motioned to the step next to her. "Is this step taken?"

She wordlessly indicated that it was not, and he quickly claimed it for himself. "I actually came by to - say goodbye to you," she finally spoke.

"Off to school, huh?"

As she listed the reasons she was going early, he began to doubt what Nana Shapiro had told him. She was so involved in everything, and he had never once imagined she would ever do any of those things less than flawlessly.

He also realized that was his own problem, too - he had so much he was doing and could do well and often, and no school he was offered was really able to encompass everything. _Looks like she got over that; why can't you?_

"I haven't seen you all summer," he noted; it was something else he had wanted to bring up.

Her excuse was, simply, "I've... Been busy."

The two fell into a short and uncomfortable silence. _This is it! This is the time! Open your mouth already!_ "So... Baljeet said something funny earlier." He paused, allowing her to brace for the bad news. "He said you had a crush on me back in grade school."

"Oh - yeah. I guess I did have a big crush on you."

This was old, old news to both of them. "So, what are we going to do now?"

Run away to the mountains and elope, of course! "Really?" She looked at him head-on. "The answer is _so_ obvious!"

"I just didn't know when we should have said it." He realized he was just making an excuse; "Sorry."

"I've talked to my family about it, and they're not really any help. Mom, Dad... Nana..."

"Yeah..." He did not look at her at all when revealing: "She told me today that you weren't perfect anymore, either."

Isabella looked up in realization.

His eyes met hers.

They looked down.

"Well," she said after a few seconds, "That's - unfortunate timing."

"Yeah." They were forced to reveal their identities the day they realized they had waited too long to do so, the same day Phineas's view of Isabella changed forever. Yes, he would call the timing of it all 'unfortunate'. And they would not even be together when they revealed their histories, he noticed, and added, "You're off to college."

"Tri-State State. Have you decided where you're going yet?"

A smile grew on Phineas's face when his mind made the connection, and an idea formed. _Scratch that last!_ He thought, as he pulled out his two acceptance letters and decided, "You know what? I just did."

Isabella's face fell as she read the school's name. Sensing his mistake, Phineas retrieved the envelope from her hands and, with a quick "Shoot, sorry," handed her the one from Tri-State. He was prone to these kinds of mistakes, after all; he was not perfect. And for once, he realized, he was totally and completely okay with that.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in two weeks."

He smiled. "Yes. Yes, you will."

Neither Isabella nor Phineas was aware of how long their friends had been standing there, and were only alerted to their presence when a round of applause started up around them.

"It's about time," Adyson retorted.

Baljeet shook Phineas's hand and explained, "We have been trying to get you two together _all day!_ "

 _Hah! All day? That's a long and accomplished while!_ Phineas thought, no lick of sarcasm appearing in his tone. "You guys are the best," he said, which was true; he appreciated just how hilarious that sentence really was.

He and Isabella turned around again, finally allowing themselves an embrace around their friend group. It had been so different, being so open about it, enough to cause fierce blushes to appear on their cheeks. This was going to need some getting used to.

"Guys, we kind of need to say something, now that Phineas and I are together..." Isabella began, facing the whole group. The two stood side-by-side, holding the other's hands for support.

"Do you happen to remember what happened - I think it was eleven years ago?"

"Yeah!" Buford interjected, "That time we went around the world in your jet! And the rollercoaster? That rocked!"

"No, no..." Phineas explained. "That was _ten_ years ago. I'm talking about the summer before that."

Baljeet looked down, confusion crossing his face. "You know, I do not remember much of that summer at all, now that you mention it."

Ferb was slightly taken aback when Gretchen decided to help him out. "That was the summer... That you moved here, right?"

"Oh, yeah-" Ginger remembered. "-And the one where those two science experiments went missing. We almost had a war because of it."

"Well..." Isabella moved slightly closer to Phineas.

Silence, for a while. Buford coughed.

Ferb eventually realised no one was going to pick up on the subtlety, and walked behind the two. He placed one hand on each of their opposite shoulders. "Ladies and gentleman... And Buford," he introduced, "I give you Perfeneas and Isealia."

Stone was less solid than the stares they received.

Baljeet giggled. "You are joking," he observed. "It's true, they do look like the missing experiments... And have similarly-sounding names..."

"And came to this town they very week the experiments disappeared," Ginger added.

"Yes, that too," listed Baljeet again. "But there is no way they could be them. Perfeneas and Isealia are legally considered... Dead."

Gretchen stepped up, and the attention of the group piled onto her. "Precisely. That's what we considered them, too, after they lost their perfection that night..."

"Gretchen?" Katie was surprised at how the girl knew this.

"Yes; I was there when it happened. It was right when Isabella and I moved here from Mexico, a little while before we joined the Fireside Girls."

"Oh!" Adyson exclaimed. "So, _that's_ where I knew her from. Ever since I met you, Isabella, I've had this sneaking suspicion I've seen you before. And I was right!"

Buford moaned, then slipped the brunette a twenty.

"Yeah," Isabella admitted, "I was surprised no one picked it up after this long. We eventually had to come out and say it."

"Seriously. See..." Phineas laughed. "All this time everyone thought I was the oblivious one, when really no one had ever considered that Isabella and I really were together this whole time."

The daggers he received came from someone's eyes. "...Except Adyson, she's so smart she figured us out."

The lady smiled smugly. "That's more like it."

Isabella pulled her phone out of her pocket, checking the time. "Anyway, I'm already super late," explained she. "I'm sorry guys, but I gotta go."

She moved around to the driver's side of her car and opened the door. "See ya."

"In two weeks." Phineas held up two fingers, and Isabella shrugged.

"Eh, I've waited this long."

She got in the car to the sound of her friends cheering goodbyes to her.

No, not to her. _To Isealia._

Phineas's smile did not leave as he watched the young woman drive away. "So, Tri-State State, huh?" Came Ferb's voice from behind him. "Good choice."

Two honks sounded, and the British man turned towards the street where his girlfriend had pulled up. "Hey, Ferbs," Vanessa cooed as she opened the passenger door of the sports car her father had bought earlier. "You ready?"

Ferb and Vanessa had probably the roughest start to their relationship out of all of Phineas's friends. It was drawn out over several years, and involved an age difference that surpassed a half of a decade, on-again/off-again crushes, a bit of jealousy on the boy's part, and even a scare of the two being each other's siblings for most of the time they knew each other. However, they were by this point going out for long enough that they both knew: if they were able to withstand all of that, nothing was ever going to break the two apart. Ferb slid in next to her and the two briefly embraced, each entirely comfortable with planting a short greeting kiss on each other's lips. "Hi, Phineas!" Vanessa called with a wave.

"Hey Nessa!" Returned the proud stepbrother. "Where're you guys going?"

"Oh, Ferb's taking me out for Ukrainian food."

"Can we... Drop you anywhere?" Ferb sensed Phineas's desire to get away from their friends before being bombarded with their questions.

"Hm..." Phineas considered this offer. "As a matter of fact..."

* * *

Isabella looked dreamily out of her windshield. It had finally happened! She didn't have to hide anymore, Phineas was going to her college, and for once in the past eleven years, she had finally felt totally and indescribably free!

She had assumed it was some kid playing around and egging her car when she heard the slap of something hitting the hard glass window beside her. Therefore, she was pleasantly surprised to see Phineas's face and hands pressed up against the side of the car instead.

"Phineas!" She said, opening the door and getting out into the street (as they were stopped at a red light). "What are you doing?"

It was no whatcha doin', but it was enough incentive for Phineas to do what he did next.

Every time the two had kissed previously, it had always been initiated by Isabella. When the slab of holographic concrete loomed over their heads; when they lined up to have their minds erased after the incident with the second dimension; every New Year's at midnight when the two would celebrate their birthday; even in that Star Wars-themed dream Phineas once had featuring him and various friends and members of his family. They had each been Isabella's.

This one was Phineas's.

* * *

"...I-I-" _The WGPM's eyes begin to water uncontrollably._ "I can't believe it! It's - MfEO's _over!_ We've come so far, and now Perfeneas and Isealia - are all grown up, and-" _she uses both hands to wipe her face down._ "I'm sorry, I just... I'm so happy for everything that's happened over the past year - it's really exciting."

 _She coughs into one hand, calming down almost immediately._ "I mean, I hardly ever get moved to tears, but I'm still trying to mirror the whole 'Dan and Swampy' thing. So, I'd like to thank everyone once again for your support. It's truly been an amazing year, and this project is something I'm real proud of. So, I'm going to leave you now, with this one message..."

 _The WGPM opens her mouth, and the camera fades a little too quickly to black._

* * *

 **...Carpe Diem!**


End file.
